Anything But Easy
by MattyBelkin
Summary: Ashley Davies doesn't do commitment, and she certainly doesn't do relationships but when Spencer Carlin walks into her life at the beginning of senior year she starts to realise that there are some things you just can't control. Spashley.
1. Just a Glimpse

So I told myself a few weeks back that I wasn't going to jump head first into a new fandom without some proper consideration. Today I just thought to myself, fuck that!

So I've decided to test the waters by randomly throwing this fic I've been writing out there to see if anyone enjoys it. I've been reading South Of Nowhere fanfic for a while now and there are so many immensely talented writers out there I've been a little bit intimidated to try something of my own.

But I've had a hell of a time writing it so far. I've got about five chapters done at the minute so hopefully someone out there will enjoy it. It's almost pretty much my first shot at writing in first person, so we'll see how that goes.

Thanks.

* * *

I lie back against an old wooden bench in the quad and take a moment to bask in the L.A. morning sun. My face is hidden under my ridiculously gigantic sunglasses as I swallow the last mouthful of the Starbuck's coffee I'd stopped off to get this morning. If I had my way, I wouldn't get to school until five seconds before the warning bell but my nerdy little sister, Kyla, had to get in early this morning to set up her chess tournament or whatever it was she was going on about. I seriously can't pay attention to anything before I've had my morning coffee.

So that's why I'm sitting here on my own fifteen minutes before school is even due to start. I have no idea where my other friends are, although now I think about it Chelsea is probably somewhere in the art department and Aiden will most likely be on the basketball courts getting all sweaty and gross.

I'm interrupted by a hand slapping me on the back of the head and I turn to kick the shit out of whoever just slapped me to see my best friend, Taylor, grinning down at me with mischievous hazel eyes. I roll my eyes, knowing that she's done something that will most likely get her into a lot of trouble, which would probably explain why she looks so proud of her achievement.

"Hey Taylor." I greet her lazily, as she slumps down beside me, still wearing that same shit-eating grin.

"Guess what I just did?" Taylor brushes off my greeting and gets straight to the point, as always. "Go on guess?"

"I dunno." And I really don't. With Taylor it could be anything. "Did you...key Sherry's car again?" No wait, she did that last week. "Did you...hit Madison?" No wait, she doesn't hit girls...

"No." Taylor tells me impatiently. "Come on Ash, what kind of guessing is that? I keyed Sherry's car last week and you know I don't hit girls."

"I know." I reply, starting to get mildly irritated. I am not in the mood for this first thing on a Monday. "Just tell me Tay."

"Well, you know the cheerleaders have practice in the gym on Monday mornings?" Taylor's grin widens until it's so massive that the Cheshire cat would be proud.

Oh dear lord, what did she do? She doesn't normally act this proud unless it's something really bad. Please tell me it has nothing to do with the Science Lab. Last time it did it got really messy. I've got three words for you. Multiple. Frog. Dissection.

"What did you do?"

"Well I snuck into the changing rooms whilst they were changing afterwards and I noticed that Madison was in the shower."

I can see where this is going and a grin starts to form on my own face. My best friend is quite the stealthy genius sometimes. You wouldn't expect someone of her height and stature to be so sneaky but she really is. One time she snuck into my house and stole all my underwear. Let me tell you now, being forced to borrow your mother's underwear is not fun. Not fun at all. Especially if your mother happens to be an evil bitch.

"So..." Taylor paused for dramatic effect and I roll my eyes once again. Taylor always has been a bit of a drama queen. "I nicked all her clothes!"

Taylor unzips her rucksack to show me a bundle of cloth that is immediately recognisable as Madison's clothing and cheerleading outfit. I feel my eyebrows shoot up in disbelief before the laughter begins to bubble in my throat. Before we know it, we're both cracking up.

"Fucking hell Tay!" I exclaim through tears of laughter. "You are absolutely bat shit crazy!"

She really is. That girl really doesn't know the meaning of the word boundaries.

"I know right?" Taylor smiles at me, seemingly very proud of this fact. "Come on Davies, give me some." She holds up a hand which I slap with my own in a resounding high five before she slings an arm over my still shaking shoulders.

"So what class do you have this morning?" She asks as she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a cigarette whilst I simultaneously reach into mine for a lighter. She leans over and lets me light it, taking a drag before giving me a pearly white smile and my shoulders an affectionate squeeze.

Taylor and I have been friends since 10th Grade. She'd just moved from England to the USA and was new to King High. The first time we met was when Madison and I were having a screaming match at each other in the middle of the corridor before class.

If I remember correctly Taylor meandered her way along the corridor and pushed through the crowd before getting right in the middle of the argument to stand in front of me. Then she held out her hand, introduced herself, told me she thought I was cool and then turned to Madison and started explaining to her why because of the imbalance in the world's population, lesbians help to rid the world of loneliness.

I was originally kind of freaked out by her and not just because she believed lesbianism solved the issue of geographical seclusion. Taylor is tall, about five foot nine and built like a brick wall, her own words not mine. She works out a lot and her arms are bigger than half of the guys around here. But the thing about Taylor is that although she looks and acts hard, if you scratch the surface you get to see the gooey centre. Huh, kinda sounds like a chocolate commercial. Damn, now I'm hungry.

"Algebra." I answer Taylor's question with a groan. I really hate Algebra. I mean Math with numbers is hard enough but Math with letters? That's just plain mean.

"That sucks. Wanna skip?" Taylor asks, blowing out a perfect smoke ring and I'm momentarily distracted by how sexy she just looked. Taylor and I will never be more than friends but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate her rugged sexiness from time to time.

She catches me looking and throws me a wink and a smirk and leans over to whisper in my ear.

"If it helps any, I think you're smoking hot too Ash."

I chuckle, Taylor has always been the biggest flirt. She's been slapped more times than I can count. Not that I didn't try, I was keeping a tally chart for a little while but it was simply impossible to keep track. She even flirts with Madison for God's sakes! But I think that might just be to piss her off.

Speaking of, I can see Madison storming across the quad right now and...What the fuck is she wearing? She's dressed like Taylor's Grandma, who's half blind by the way.

"I think she had to dress from lost property." Taylor sniggers in my ear and I can't help but chuckle. This is the most hilarious thing that's happened since...yesterday. My Mom forced me and Kyla to go out for Sunday dinner and a pigeon shitted on her head. I laughed so hard I thought I'd actually ruptured something.

But holy shit does Madison look angry. Her face is so red you could probably fry an egg on it and her lips are so thin for a moment there I thought they'd actually fallen off.

"Fuck, look how red her face is." Taylor whispers in my ear, with a breathy laugh. "She looks like an angry, Spanish pixie."

I had to laugh at that. Taylor has a way of making the most serious of situations funny. She could do stand up comedy at a funeral and people would laugh.

"But _dude_, when she stomps along like that, it totally makes her tits bounce."

"Ew. Taylor." I groan. She's right of course, those things are bouncing like they're on mini trampolines but was it really necessary to point it out?

"Sorry babe, but look at her. Couldn't you just eat her up?" Taylor all but growls out.

"Maybe if I didn't know what a bitch she was." I shudder.

Madison's hot and all but her personality is so repulsive and she's such a homophobic bitch that it even makes her body look ugly to me.

Madison finally gets to within yelling range and I feel Taylor's grip on my shoulder tighten slightly. That's one thing you should know about Taylor. She's fiercely loyal and if anyone messes with me they will be answering to her. It's not that I can't look after myself or anything, I'd like to think that I've got enough street smarts and attitude to get me by, but it's always nice to know that someone's got your back.

"Hey Maddie baby." Taylor calls out and I can't help but laugh as Madison's face gets even redder if that's possible. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your beautiful company?"

"Don't mess around with me." Madison growls and for a moment I will admit that I'm kinda scared of her, but only for a second.

What? That bitch is kinda psychotic.

"What have you dykes done with my clothes?" She hisses loudly and I'm sure I just felt something wet hit me on the face. Eww! That is _so_ nasty. Madison cooties are on me! Somebody get me to a shower stat!

"What are you talking about honey?" Taylor drools out in her deep, English accent as I rub my face frantically on my shirt. "And by the way, you look absolutely fabulous today! Where did you get that gorgeous jumper? I simply must have one."

Now this is funny on more than one level. Firstly, it's hilarious because Madison is so tightly-wound about her appearance that right now she looks like she's about to internally combust.

Secondly, it's even more amusing because Taylor doesn't really give a fuck about how she looks or what clothes she wears. She doesn't care about labels or trends or her hair. She only really cares about her body and the frustrating thing is she keeps in such great shape that no matter what she puts over the top of it she _always_ looks good. Like today for example. All she's wearing is a pair of faded and ripped black jeans that look like they've never been introduced to an iron, a white tank top that shows off her arms and two tattoos and a pair of red and white basketball sneakers that are falling apart, but she still looks great.

So now I'm in hysterics and have almost my whole fist in my mouth to try and control my laughter at the look on Madison's face and the irony of Taylor teasing the queen of fashion about her clothing.

Madison crosses her arms across her chest self-consciously to try and cover up the puke-coloured, woollen sweater that she's been forced to borrow and I'm a goner.

Unfortunately, Madison doesn't find my amusement particularly...amusing.

"I swear to God Davies, if you don't stop laughing and give me back my clothes in five seconds flat I will bitch slap you so hard..." She trails because suddenly Taylor is on her feet and all five foot nine of her is towering over Madison in a rather intimidating manner.

"Now Maddie." She says in a deep, threatening voice. "I know we're soulmates and all but I'm afraid I can't allow you to threaten my best mate like that. You can say what you like to me, because let's face it we can just have some great make up sex afterwards..." Taylor smiles evilly when Madison's face twists in disgust. "But you really shouldn't speak to Ashley like that."

I could tell by Madison's face that she doesn't know whether to argue or to run away with her tail between her legs. Whereas I know that Taylor would never actually lay a finger on the other girl, Madison does not and it's something that we often use to our advantage.

"Whatever Jones." Madison spits out Taylor's last name like it's a curse and flounces away in all her bitchy glory, her hair hitting Taylor in the face on the way, which makes me laugh even more because Taylor instinctively pulls her head back and it looks more like she's being hit by a giant hammer than a lock of hair.

"Her hair smells really good." Taylor comments after the shock has worn off and I punch her playfully in the arm as I get up to stand beside her. In case you hadn't noticed, Taylor has a really weird relationship with Madison. It's somewhere between the realms of hate and lust.

We both watch as Madison makes her way back towards her bunch of cheer-whores and something catches my eye. In the midst of green and yellow cheerleader uniforms is a slim blonde. I can't see her face because her back is turned but holy shit does she have killer legs! I'm talking tanned and smooth and long and toned and – .

"Ash, you're drooling." Taylor nudges me out of my leg induced drool-fest just as Madison finally reaches her groupies. She says something to them, something that's obviously about us because they all turn to glare our way.

Wow.

If I thought her legs were hot they've got nothing on her eyes. Even from all the way across the quad I can see that they're a light, piercing blue. She's staring right at me and I think my cheeks are starting to heat up. What the fuck is wrong with me?

"Dude, why are you blushing?" Taylor asks bluntly. As usual. "I haven't seen you this red since sophomore year when I filled your locker full of condoms and announced to the entire corridor that you were a hermaphrodite."

Yes, she really did that. If being gay wasn't bad enough I still get kids coming up to me and asking to see my 'teeny-weeny'.

"I still haven't forgiven you for that." I mutter, although my eyes are still firmly planted on the blonde. They have now drifted to her ass, which also happens to be flawless.

Who is she?

"Who is she?"

Shit. Did not mean to say that out loud.

"Who?" Taylor asks, raising an eyebrow at me. I hate it when she does that, it makes me feel like I'm being interrogated.

I'm not going to answer her. If I just keep my mouth shut she'll never know and I won't be subjected to years of teasing for blushing just because a girl glanced my way.

"Who?" Taylor asks again. Damn, that girl is persistent. "The hot blonde with the cheer-whores?"

Shit. Busted.

"Yeah..." I admit slowly, waiting for the teasing comment that is sure to come.

"That my friend, is Spencer Carlin." Taylor surprises me by answering. "She just moved to L.A from Ohio with her family."

How does she know these things? It's seriously creepy.

"And I know that because I spoke to her yesterday." Taylor reads my facial expression, as she so often does. "And the reason I spoke to her yesterday is because the Carlin's are my new neighbours."

Oh. So I may have jumped to conclusions about my best friend being a stalker a little too quickly.

My eyes drift back up to the blonde and I'm disappointed to notice that she's walking away arm in arm with Madison. That little bitch better not contaminate Spencer with her bitchiness.

Spencer...Isn't that a guy's name? Ah well, who gives a fuck? The only thing I can think about as I let Taylor drag me out of the quad is how her legs and ass look even better when she's walking.

* * *

Thanks for reading.

I'd love any comments, tips, thoughts, criticisms that you might wanna throw my way. It would be a big help. Thanks.


	2. A Closer Look

I've had a pretty good response to th first chapter so I think I'll keep firing on all cylinders with this one.

Massive thanks to those who reviewed: Shantaclair, Milch Getting, Mehhnobigs, hphglover, Jessica, nwlifenwworld123, YoucancallmeA, imaferrari and Palaxobsessed. Much appreciated.

So here's chapter two. I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

I really _really _hate Monday's. It's the last period of the day and I've been clockwatching for about half an hour. I swear to God that time is moving extra slow just to spite me.

The bell finally rings and everyone jumps up and rushes for the door. I love the end of the day stampedes out of the classroom, it's one of the only times I can put my super pointy elbows to good use.

When I've finally muscled my way out of the classroom I immediately spot Taylor leaning casually against the lockers opposite the door and I walk over to her kind of warily because I swear she's supposed to be at soccer practice this afternoon. And if Taylor's not where she's supposed to be it's normally because she's a) in trouble or b) up to something.

"What's up Tay?" I ask her suspiciously. "I thought you had training after school on Monday's?"

"Cancelled." She grunts and I can tell that she's in a bad mood. "The pansies field is under maintenance or some shit like that and they need to use ours because they have a big game coming up. So of course everyone forgets about our first game of the season against Benson next week. I hate this school. Sexist wankers the lot of them."

Ah, that would explain the bad mood. Taylor is the captain of the King High soccer team and she takes her role very seriously. She's also proclaimed war on the King High football team or the 'pansies' as she refers to them as. There have been several occasions when I have literally had to drag her away from a group of angry jocks before things got ugly.

"I was gonna walk home." Taylor continues, thankfully looking less angry. "But I was wondering if you could give me a lift?"

"Sure." I shrug and we both begin walking towards the student parking lot. "Where's your bike?"

Dora the motorbike is Taylor's baby. I'm not kidding you; she actually calls it Dora and talks to it like it's not an inanimate hunk of metal. Don't tell her I said that or she might actually murder me.

"I'm half way through installing some new cartridge emulators and Mr Carlin next door even offered to help me adjust her suspension." Taylor replies with the same dreamy expression she always gets when she talks about Dora. "Not that there was anything wrong with the suspension but I recently read in _Bike _that adjusting it to suit your physique can seriously improve handling and ..."

By this time I've completely tuned her out. Taylor isn't what I'd call a chatty person; when I actually want to talk about something all I get is grunts and monosyllables but when it comes to that damn bike she could go on and on for days. It's seriously annoying!

We finally reach my Porsche Cayenne and she's still bloody talking! I think she's realised that I'm not listening but doesn't really care. I shake my head as we both clamber in and I reverse out of the space. Suddenly something Taylor says manages to catch my attention.

"– Hey look, there's Spencer."

I whip around in my cream leather seat so fast that I think I now have whiplash. Great. I follow Taylor's gaze and my eyes fix on Spencer who's standing on the sidewalk shouting into her cell phone angrily. Holy shit she looks hot when she's pissed.

Some rude person beeps behind me and I realise that I've come to a complete stop and am causing a massive traffic jam. Oops.

"Let's give her a ride." Taylor suggests eagerly.

"No!" I protest furiously. I have no idea why but I am so not ready to meet her in person.

"Why not? I know she's hanging around with Madison but when I spoke to her yesterday she seemed really nice. Plus, it's more environmentally friendly to carpool." Damn her and her geographical reasoning.

Just as I'm about to come up with a counterargument Taylor has already wound down her window (I knew I should have put a child lock on her side) and is calling out to Spencer.

"Hey Carlin! Need a ride?"

Spencer looks up, startled and says something to the person on the phone before disconnecting. I notice her eyes checking out my car. Oh yeah baby, she totally digs my car. I love this car, it's the reason I get laid so often. That and my smoking body. Yeah, now might be a good time to tell you that although I have many, _many_ brilliant traits, modesty is not one of them.

Spencer looks unsure for a moment and I'm pretty sure that it's because Taylor is half hanging out of the window grinning at her in that creepy way that she seems to think makes her look sexy but another son of a bitch beeps their horn and she hurries over, jumping into my back seat. I would make a sexual joke about back seats but the only thought running through my mind goes something along the lines of 'Oh. My. God. Spencer Carlin is in my car!'

I don't know why this girl is having such a weird affect on me because my heart is now beating a mile a minute and my hands are sweating all over my leather steering wheel.

In my nervousness I step on the gas a little bit too enthusiastically and nearly take out a couple of freshman who had decided that now was a great time to cross the road. I cringe as I have to brake sharply. Spencer probably wouldn't have accepted the ride if she'd known that there was a freshman murdering lunatic behind the wheel.

"Spencer, this is my friend Ashley Davies." Taylor introduces us when I've finally managed to get out of the parking lot and onto the open road.

I briefly turn back to give her a small smile and my breath hitches in my throat. She's even more stunning up close. Her hair is shiny and golden and I have to restrain myself from reaching out and touching it. Her eyes are even bluer than before and they sparkle happily in the sunlight streaming through the window... Man, when did I become such a loser?

"Uh...Hi."

Damn it, could I have sounded anymore lame? Now Taylor is definitely gonna know that something's up. I never stutter when I talk to girls.

I chance a glance to my left and Taylor is looking at me with a perfectly arched eyebrow. I _really_ hate it when she looks at me like that. Damn her and her freakishly strong forehead muscles!

"Hi." Spencer smiles sweetly at me and I think I just swooned. What the actual fuck?

Okay Ashley, just focus on the road and ignore her. Think unsexy thoughts. Err...sweaty Aiden!...sweaty Spencer...No wait, Aha! I've got it. Old people having sex!...mmm, sex with Spencer. Okay then, that's definitely not gonna work. Think Ashley, think! Christine! Ew. That did the trick. Although it's kinda sad that the thought of my own mother repulses me.

"Thank you for the ride."

Great. She just couldn't keep quiet could she? Now I'm back to square one.

Christine! Christine! Christine!

"My brother was supposed to give me a lift but it would seem he left without me."

Christine! Christine! Christine! Christine!

"And I have no idea where my other brother's got to. He probably saw that chess club poster." She lets out a little giggle and it's the best sound to ever grace my ears. "He's a bit of a -."

"CHRISTINE!"

Aw fuck, please tell me I did not just shout that aloud.

I risk a glance in my wing mirror at Spencer who looks slightly shocked and then over at Taylor who's grinning like Christmas just came early.

"Err...Ash? Why did you just randomly scream your mother's name?" She asks with an evil smirk before she dissolves into a fit of hysterical laughter.

I hate her. As of this moment, our friendship is officially over.

"Sorry about that." I mutter to Spencer, who's looking at me like I'm the world's biggest lunatic. "I swear I'm not crazy, just a little eccentric."

She laughs again and I can't help but smile. I never knew what people meant when they said that someone's laugh was contagious, but I totally get it now.

"Aren't we all?" She sends me another sweet smile. I think she's actually trying to kill me.

Unfortunately for me, whilst I'm mentally congratulating myself for saving the situation I do not realise just how close I've been driving to the kerb and have to swerve dramatically to avoid flattening the old lady on the sidewalk.

Why does God hate me?

"Have you been drinking again?" Taylor makes it worse by saying in a patronising tone. "Ashley Davies! What have I told you about drunk driving?"

I send her the scariest glare I can muster and am satisfied to see the smirk slide clean off her face.

'I'm. Going. To. Kill. You.' I mouth, just in case she didn't already get the message. She definitely gets it now because she rapidly turns to look out of the window. Coward.

When I finally pull up outside Taylor's house I have to restrain myself from jumping out and doing a happy dance. I honestly thought that we weren't going to make it, not because of my dodgy driving but I was seriously considering taking a detour to the coast and throwing Taylor off a cliff.

I can't help but notice how fast Spencer jumps out of my car. She obviously didn't think that we were going to make it either. Although her reasoning probably had more to do with my driving than murdering Taylor. In my defence, the dodgy driving was totally her fault. Nobody should be allowed to be that hot. It's a danger to society.

"Would you like to come around mine and hang out or something?" I hear Taylor ask Spencer as I get out of my car.

Part of me desperately wants to spend some time with the blonde but an even bigger part of me wants to get away with from her so I can compose myself. Just being in her presence is sending my nerves haywire and I'll be fucked if I know why.

"Thanks, but I should really start unpacking my stuff." Spencer gives Taylor a smile and it might just be wishful thinking but I swear it isn't as bright as the one she gave me. "Another time?"

"Sure." Taylor shrugs one shoulder. Why? I have no idea; in my opinion it made her look slightly retarded. "If you need anything you know where I live."

Spencer chuckles lightly and I'm so preoccupied with listening to the heavenly sound that I trip on the kerb and would have fallen on my face if it wasn't for Taylor's steadying hand on my shoulder. Now that could have been seriously embarrassing.

I tilt my head down to look at the sidewalk, feeling the blush start to form on my cheeks. I swear I've blushed more today than I have in my entire life. I raise my eyes from the floor just in time to catch Taylor imitating someone drinking from a pint glass and pointing gleefully at me.

I hate her.

"Anyway." Spencer says with a husky laugh that sends weird tingles down my spine. "I better go. My parents will be waiting to interrogate me about my first day." She turns and begins to walk down her path and I experience a brief feeling of disappointment before I'm distracted by her ass and the way it shimmies when she walks. She suddenly turns back to look at us and I quickly raise my eyes to her face, which is admittedly just as nice as her other...assets.

"Bye Taylor. Thanks for the ride Ashley."

Oh. My. God. Did she just wink at me? I think she just winked at me. Or did she? I have been known to imagine these things.

"Yes Ash, she did just wink at you." I almost jump out of my skin when Taylor speaks. I'd completely forgotten she was there.

I turn to face her with a slight grimace on my face. I'm almost definite that I'm about to get teased to within an inch of my life. Taylor is a naturally intuitive person, especially when it comes to me, so there is absolutely no chance that she didn't notice my odd behaviour. Hell, a monkey would have noticed my odd behaviour! I wasn't exactly subtle.

When I have fully faced my best friend I'm all out cringing, readying myself for the verbal-bashing that I'm sure I'm about to receive.

Err...why is she looking at me like that?

The expression on Taylor's face is weird. She's smiling, but it's not the teasing smirk I expected. In fact, she almost looks proud. It's actually kinda creeping me out.

"Er. Tay? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because I knew you couldn't be a cold-hearted ladykiller forever."

What the fuck does that mean? Sometimes I really do not understand that girl and I hate it when she acts like she knows something that I don't. Like right now for instance.

"What are you talking about?" I ask her, although I know that there's pretty much no point because her answer will probably be even more cryptic.

"You'll see." Is all she says, still smiling that annoying smile that makes me want to hit her. Wow, Taylor really brings out my violent side.

She wraps an arm around my shoulders and starts to steer me towards her front door.

"Come on Davies. Come in and have a drink, I'll make you one of those three tiered sandwiches you like so much and then we can watch Spencer get changed out of the bathroom window. It's directly opposite her bedroom. You can even borrow my binoculars."

Did I mention how much I love her?

* * *

Thanks for reading.


	3. A Game of Two Halves

I was absolutely determined that I was going to update today, so here I am. It's a little bit later than I expected to update but it was my birthday today and my girlfriend surprised me by buying me an a new xbox 360 250GB so I've been playing Fifa 10 and Need for Speed literally all day.

So here we are with chapter three. I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

It's been a week and I haven't actually spoken to Spencer since I gave her a ride on the first day of school. I just can't seem to work up the balls to even say hello. I don't know why, I've never been nervous about approaching a girl before. It also really doesn't help that whenever I see her on campus Madison is always around. That bitch is seriously the bane of my existence.

Although I am pleased to say that whenever I do see her she smiles at me. So I'm pretty sure she isn't a homophobic bitch like the rest of the cheerleaders. I'm not entirely sure why she hangs around them anyway. Taylor reckons it's because she's secretly a member of the gay police who has infiltrated their group in order to stamp down on homophobia.

I think it's because she likes cheerleading. According to Chelsea she was on the team in Ohio.

I do know that she loves to dance because when I was spying on her from Taylor's bathroom – What? Don't judge me, I'm only human. – she often turns on her stereo and randomly dances around her room. It's seriously cute.

I know, I know. It's kinda stalkerish and creepy to watch a girl through the window of her neighbour's bathroom. But you'll be glad to know that we've stopped doing that since Taylor's Dad walked in to find me standing on the toilet and Taylor standing on the edge of the bathtub looking through the window with binoculars at Spencer pinning up posters of puppies and kittens on the wall. She wasn't even doing anything indecent and Mr. Jones still sat us down for a serious talk on the 'boundaries of perversion' and how that kind of behaviour would not be tolerated under his roof.

The ironic thing is, his own daughter is probably the world's biggest pervert.

Mr Jones is a lovely guy, don't get me wrong. In fact, since my Dad died he's sort of become the main father figure in my life. The only thing is that he's not around much so he can't keep as tight a leash on Taylor as I think he would like. He's the picture of a stereotypical Englishman. He's kinda uptight, wear glasses and sweater vests, owns a briefcase and whenever I see him he's drinking tea. I often wonder whether Taylor is adopted.

Speaking of all things Taylor, I can see her across the quad talking to Spencer. That can't be a good thing. I know they're neighbours and all but I have never seen them talk around school. Madison really doesn't look very happy because she's holding Spencer's arm, clearly trying to drag her away but I'm glad to see that Spencer's having none of it, which is making Madison's face go that angry red colour again.

That girl really needs to get her blood pressure checked out.

Taylor and Spencer have finally stopped talking and they smile at each other in a friendly manner before Taylor walks away saying something to Madison that makes her even angrier.

I would also recommend that she see someone for anger management right after the blood pressure appointment. Not that I really care if her head explodes, although it would be kind of icky.

"Who's the girl that Taylor was just talking to?" Aiden asks me as he sits down on the other side of Kyla who looks ridiculously thrilled at his arrival. She _so_ has a thing for him. God knows why, that boy needs to learn how to use a shower; every time I see him he's sweating like a pig and his rippling muscles are all shiny. Thank God I'm a lesbian.

"That's Spencer Carlin." Kyla answers before I can. She's so eager to talk to him it almost makes me ashamed to be related to her. Let's forget the fact that Aiden and I used to date.

What? I was confused about my sexuality and he was just there. Just ready and waiting to be experimented on. Lucky for me, I realised pretty quickly that he was not what I wanted.

Taylor finally reaches our bench after strutting across the quad extra slowly probably because she knows it will annoy me. She pushes Kyla onto the floor so that she can sit beside me and I would valiantly defend my little sister but I really don't give a shit. And neither it seems, does Kyla because now Aiden is helping her up and she looks even more thrilled that not only did she get to talk to him she also gets to touch him. What a freak.

"What were you talking to Spencer about?" I whisper to Taylor impatiently.

"You are coming to my game tonight right?" Is all she says back. I really hate it when she avoids my questions.

"Of Course." I tell her.

I've never missed one of Taylor's soccer games because I know how much it means to her. Her Dad never gets to go to any of them because he's always working. She'd never admit to it but I know she's bummed out about the fact that her own father never gets to see her do what she loves best. So I have since taken it upon myself to be her biggest fan and I don't even like soccer. I know, you don't have to tell me that I'm a brilliant friend.

In fact, I am even the proud owner of a 'World's greatest friend' mug. Although, if I'm honest, I actually bought it for myself... but in my defence, it was on sale.

"Good, because guess who I just invited to come along?" Taylor nudges me teasingly.

"Who?"

Please do not say Spencer. I cannot be around that girl for more than two seconds without making a fool of myself and I have no idea why.

"Spencer."

Great.

"Why would you do that?" I hiss at her and she flinches when I accidentally spit on her face. Oops.

"I did it for you." She shrugs, wiping her face with her hand and then patting me on the shoulder. "Don't worry; you don't have to thank me."

With that, she stands up and wanders away. I think she might have completely lost the plot. Maybe she's on crack? I would at least take some comfort from knowing that there was a reason for her completely losing her marbles.

But I have worse things to worry about right now than my best friend falling off the sane train. There is a high possibility that this afternoon I will have to spend two hours sitting next to Spencer Carlin whilst trying not to make too big an ass of myself.

Shoot me now.

* * *

I'm currently sitting on the most uncomfortable set of bleachers in the world. I've only been sitting here for about five minutes and my ass is already completely numb. God knows how I'm gonna make it through the full ninety minute match.

It probably doesn't help that I keep shifting around every few seconds to check to see if Spencer's arrived yet. I know I said that I didn't want her to come but I totally lied. I don't like being on my own at away games, last time one of the other teams fans threw a can of coke at my head for cheering when King scored. Not fun.

Just as I've convinced myself that Spencer's not coming I see her, trudging through the grass at the edge of the field and _holy shit _does she look fine! She's dressed casually; Abercrombie hoody, skinny jeans and Ugg boots but she still looks absolutely gorgeous. And don't even get me started on her hair. Taylor always teases me about having a weakness for blondes.

I hate it when she's right.

Spencer reaches the edge of the bleachers and looks up, her eyes almost immediately locking with mine. She smiles in greeting and begins to clamber gracefully towards me.

Why am I so nervous? I don't even know this girl.

"Hey." She says as she reaches me, sitting down right next to me close enough for me to feel her body heat. And what fine body heat it is... Okay, that doesn't even make sense; see what she does to me?

"Hi." I reply and am pleased to say that I sound relatively normal.

Spencer looks around for a moment, not that there's really much to take in. I've never seen a massive turnout to one of Taylor's games, especially the home ones. Taylor thinks it because the students of King High have absolutely no loyalty. I think it might just be because they'd rather sit at home and watch TV on a comfortable couch than sit and torture your ass on metal planks for two hours.

There is always this one creepy boy that comes to all the King matches though. He sits there the entire game in silence and every time I look over at him he's sniffing something. No, I'm not talking drugs; I'm talking his jacket, his fingers, his shirt, other people. Yeah I'm not kidding; I swear I saw him sniffing this girl's hair last season.

Taylor thinks it's hilarious. She's even taken the liberty of nicknaming him McSniffy and asks for an update of his antics after every game.

"Do you come to Taylor's games a lot?" Spencer's sweet voice cuts into my thoughts.

"Yeah." I say with a small shrug. "I've actually never missed one."

"Are you a big soccer fan?" She sounds surprised. I don't really blame her; I wouldn't have pegged me for a soccer fan either.

"Not really." I shrug again in a pathetic attempt to look cool and casual when in reality I have baby elephants stomping up a storm in the pit of my stomach. "I just come along to support Taylor."

"That's sweet." Spencer shoots me a genuine smile and now those freaking elephants have gone ape shit. I don't think I've ever been this nervous and I still don't even understand why I am.

Luckily, we're both distracted as the teams walk out onto the pitch, King High in their usual green and yellow strip and Benson High wearing some hideous purple and green kit. They seriously look like that talking dinosaur that used to scare the shit out of me when I was a kid.

"And I thought King's kit was ugly." I whisper to Spencer (I'd rather not be hit by another flying beverage thanks) and I'm pleased to hear her chuckle. I can't help the stupidly proud smile that spreads across my face just because I made her laugh. I seriously think I'm losing it. But you know what? Losing it actually feels kinda nice.

I search the field of players and quickly spot Taylor who's barking out orders to a couple of teammates. She suddenly turns to scan the small crowd and our eyes meet. She winks at me and gives me a quick thumbs up. Why, I have no idea, she doesn't normally do that. I attempt to wink back but just end up looking like a complete spaz.

Taylor grins and shakes her head in amusement before adjusting her captain's armband and resuming her bossiness.

The game kicks off and I'm pleased to say that I'm a little more comfortable in Spencer's presence. The small elephants have downsized to slightly smaller elephants.

"I didn't think you were going to come." I admit to Spencer as we both pretend to be interested in the game.

"Taylor asked me to be here." She replies simply, shrugging her perfectly rounded shoulders.

"Why did she ask you to be here?" I ask and then quickly backtrack. "Not that I don't want you to be here, I just meant -."

"I know what you meant." Spencer interrupts my rant with chuckle and I feel my cheeks heat up slightly. "And to answer your original question I have absolutely no idea. I believe her exact words were something along the lines of 'for some neighbourly bonding'."

That is by far the worst impression of my douche bag of a best friend I have ever heard but it was so fucking cute!

"That was terrible wasn't it?" She cringes and I can see an adorable blush forming on her cheeks.

Okay, since when do I use terms such as cute and adorable to describe a girl? There is something seriously wrong with me.

"Yeah it kinda was." I tell her as we both laugh.

Truth be told, I haven't actually had this much fun just talking to someone and enjoying their company in a long time. As I said before, Taylor isn't really the best at conversing and most of the other girls I meet? Let's just say that there isn't normally lot of talking involved.

"This is actually a lot more fun than I thought it would be." Spencer admits after a moment of comfortable silence. "I'm glad I decided to come."

"Me too." I tell her with a smile that she returns.

I open my mouth to say something else when I'm distracted by an all too familiar figure clambering up the bleachers with a lot less grace than Spencer did.

Um, what the fuck is he doing here?

* * *

Thanks for reading.

Also, big thanks to the all that reviewed last chapter. Shout out to the newest reviewers: kiangs, mccooper11, nickers, kamariacr, bazzer, irishgrl33, xwpblue, MittNacht, pankton, ashikinz, prissy020304, 2bz2breading and Your Relentless Lover.

Next Chapter will probably be up sometime on Tuesday. Going away for a romantic weekend (God help me)


	4. Frustration and Near Castration

Hey folks. I'm back with chapter four as promised. I actually just got in, the traffic on the M25 was a freaking nightmare and I am not in a great mood right now. I'm used to speeding down the motorway on my bike but instead I was stuck driving my girlfriend's shit little bright yellow Fiat Punto which doesn't even have power-steering. Utter nightmare.

Anyway, I've been astounded by the positive response I've received for this fic so thanks a lot for that. It's really is appreciated. Also, thanks for the birthday wishes and good lucks for my little trip. It was pretty disastrous if I'm honest because for starters you can't get someone an Xbox and then tell them they can't play on it for three days and expect them not to moan. And secondly, you can't book a crappy little hotel that has the world's lowest ceilings (there are at least five bruises on my head),suspicious looking hairs in the bed and a psycho Jack Russell that kept trying to bite my face and expect someone not to complain. It's just not on.

Anyway, rant over. Here's chapter 4, I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I ask as he plonks himself down next to Spencer. A little too close to her if you ask me.

"I'm here to watch Taylor play soccer of course." Aiden replies, speaking to me like I'm an idiot and I seriously want to rip his head off. "Hey Ash, why don't you introduce me to your friend." He says, his eyes not leaving Spencer for a second.

That git. He hates soccer and has never once been to one of Taylor's games with me. He can't fool me; I know _exactly _why he's here.

"Aiden, this is Spencer Carlin. Spencer, this is Aiden Dennison." I say through gritted teeth, grinding them together as Spencer sends him a polite smile.

Aiden immediately engages her in conversation as I turn back towards the pitch with a frown so big it could probably win an award.

Turns out I turned back just in time to see King score. Taylor slips a through ball into the striker, Carmen; I think her name is and she hits it into the back of the net with a simple strike.

I don't even bother to clap. I'm pissed and I don't care who knows it. Spencer, however, jumps to her feet and cheers loudly before bringing her hand to her lips and letting out a rather impressive wolf whistle.

Whoa! I so did not see that coming and apparently neither did anyone else because suddenly the whole field is silent and everyone is staring straight at the blonde, and some of them don't look too happy.

I instinctively reach up and grab Spencer's wrist, my hand tingling at the direct contact as pull her back into her seat before she gets something thrown at her. I can't help but chuckle when I look at her. Her face is even redder than Madison's and that's saying something!

"Shut up!" She mumbles to me with an absolutely adorable pout.

And there I go again with the stupid, girly descriptive words that weren't even in the 'Ashley Dictionary' before last week.

"Don't worry Spence." Woops. Didn't mean to call her that but thankfully I don't think she noticed. "We all get carried away sometimes."

"Shut it _Ash_." So she did notice, and could I just say that I totally just swooned when she said my nickname. I seriously think I'm ill or something.

I'm about to counter with an incredibly witty remark when Aiden taps her on the shoulder like a little kid and draws her attention away from me. Bastard.

How did that tool even find out about Spencer coming to the match anyway? I bet he eavesdropped on Taylor and I. What a Dickhead.

I turn back to the match with a badass frown firmly planted on my face. Okay, fine, I'm totally pouting like a petulant child. I'm not used to things not going my way.

I watch Taylor boss the midfield with incisive passes and crunching tackles for a while and I have to admit that every time I watch her play I'm impressed by how good she actually is.

Taylor tackles the Benson captain (who is massive by the way) and plays it quickly down the wing and I can't help but grin as I watch Taylor almost bust a gut sprinting from the centre circle into the box. It pays off though because the winger cuts inside and squares the ball perfectly for Taylor to tap past the flailing keeper. 2-0 to King. You have to give me props for actually keeping track of this game with Spencer sitting beside me. Talk about distracting.

The half time whistle finally blows and the teams filter back into the changing rooms.

Aiden is still talking Spencer's ear off, which is odd because he doesn't normally talk at all. I mean what else does he have to talk about other than basketball and weight-lifting? In fact, that's probably what he's talking about right now. It would certainly explain why Spencer looks so bored.

I let a small grin spread across my face at that because when she was talking to me she so didn't look bored at all. Suck on that Aiden.

I'm still pretty annoyed though. Since that douche came along Spencer's hardly been paying any attention to me. What is it about Aiden that makes him better than me? Is it because he has a penis? Or biceps bigger than my head? Straight girls are so weird. If I had my way, all girls would be lesbians. And Spencer would be like the queen lesbian.

I hear clapping and realise that I've spent ten minutes daydreaming about my perfect world where the lesbians form a giant army and decapitate all the men. That would be so awesome.

The game restarts and I'm trying to pay attention but it's kind of hard when there's a blonde beside you that you want to fuck and a boy that you want to castrate. But I really should pay attention; Taylor tends to test me after the game to make sure that I was actually watching.

So I focus my eyes firmly on my best friend as she continues to pull all the strings in midfield both offensively and defensively.

"She's good." I freeze when I feel Spencer's warm breath brush my ear, shivers running down my spine. Holy shit!

Christine!

Phew, that was a close one.

"Yeah she is." My naturally husky voice is even huskier and I pray that Spencer doesn't notice. If she did she's quickly distracted by something happening on the pitch.

"Oh my God!" She exclaims, looking worried and I quickly whip around.

Ouch. Welcome back Mr. Whiplash.

What I see on the pitch instantly causes my eyebrows to crease in concern. Taylor is lying in a ball in the floor, clearly in some kind of pain.

"What happened?" I ask Spencer hurriedly.

"They were going for the ball and that big girl completely missed it and smashed her head straight into Taylor's." Spencer bites her lip and I would have found it sexy if I wasn't so worried about my best friend's well being. Okay fine, I totally found it sexy regardless.

I turn back to the pitch and sigh in relief as Taylor gets shakily to her feet being supported on either side by two of the King High defenders. Her hand is pressed over the top of her right eyebrow and I can already see the blood seeping through her fingertips.

She brings her hand away from her face and I can't help but cringe at the nasty gash just above her eyebrow that's leaking copious amounts of blood.

In a flash, she's shaken off her teammates and is striding towards a massive girl that's by my reckoning over six foot tall and almost a wide. I have a feeling that this could get ugly.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" I hear Taylor yell as she stands on tiptoes to get right in the bigger girl's face. "Do I look like a fucking football to you?"

I snort slightly and Spencer looks over at me in shock.

"Is she always like this?" She asks me incredulously.

I consider the question for a moment before sending her a small shrug.

"Yep. Pretty much."

Taylor never was one to back down from confrontation. Just last week she had a massive rant at this uber-hairy motorcyclist with biceps bigger than Aiden's because he parked his bike too close to Dora.

I can't help but grin as Taylor continues to scream into the colossal girl's face until pretty much the whole King High team; substitutes included, manage to drag her away and onto the sidelines for treatment.

"I'm just gonna see how she is." I say to Spencer, standing up and making my way down the half empty bleachers to the touchline.

When I reach her, Taylor is getting a thick, white bandage wrapped tightly around her head as she continues to rant at the first aider about incompetent players and their over-sized heads.

"Ashley!" She smiles cheerfully when she spots me. It looks kinda funny because her eyes are all scrunched up from where the bandage is pushing on her forehead.

"Hey Tay." I greet her and place a hand on her shoulder. "You alright?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." She shrugs in her typical nonchalant manner. "Just a flesh wound. But can you believe that bitch? She just nutted me in the face and didn't even have the bloody manners to say sorry! I outta give her a good slapping!"

"Thought you didn't hit girls?" I tease lightly, giving her large shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

"Have you seen her? She's no girl; she's some kind of beast!" We share a laugh, as Taylor staggers to her feet and leans over towards me with a conspiratorial smile.

"How are things going with Spencer?" She asks me as she stupidly tries to arch an eyebrow.

"It was good until that twat showed up." I reply with a pout and she follows my gaze before doubling over in hysterics.

"Shut up!" I whine, nudging her in the back gently.

"Sorry." She chuckles. "But you've got to see the humour in this situation."

I try to think of the ways in which I find Aiden showing up and ruining my time with Spencer even remotely funny but I'm coming up blank.

"Nope, not really."

"Don't worry about it Bud." Yeah, she calls me Bud. She's lived in the USA for three years and she suddenly thinks she's Texan.

She pats me on the back and turns to say something to the referee, who's jogged over to check on the situation.

"You're sure you're alright to go back on?" I know it's a stupid question, the first aider and the coach have already tried to persuade her otherwise, but I have to ask anyway.

"Yes _Mum_!" She replies with a smirk before marching unsteadily but determinedly back onto the field.

"Is she alright?" Spencer asks with genuine concern as soon as I've sat down again.

"I think she'll be okay." I shrug, although I keep a watchful eye on Taylor for the remainder of the game. Benson get a goal back, probably because Taylor's not up to full fitness and there are a couple of gaps in midfield and the game finishes 2-1.

"How'd you get here?" I ask Spencer whilst I'm waiting for Taylor to get changed after the game and Aiden is momentarily distracted by a funny shaped cloud. I don't know why that douche is even here still. Doesn't he have basketball practice? Or a gym session? Just somebody please remove him from my sight before I actually kill him.

"A friend from the cheerleading squad dropped me off after practice." She replies with her usual saccharine smile. I swear that girl's gonna make me diabetic.

Just as I'm about to offer to give her a lift home Aiden jumps in.

"I could give you a ride home if you'd like?" He offers, with a stupid grin.

Right now, I would really like to knock those pearly whites straight down his throat.

Just as Spencer is about to reply Taylor appears beside us and I'm a little worried when I notice that her face is paler than usual and the blood has started to show through the bandage around her head.

"You alright Tay?" I ask.

"I'm good." She shrugs but her voice is a little slurred and her eyes are slightly out of focus.

"Are you sure?" Spencer says, peering into Taylor's pallid face with legitimate concern.

"I told you I'm fine." Taylor tells her, pulling her kit bag up over her shoulder and slinging an arm around mine. "You girls ready to go?"

"Actually Tay, I'm gonna take Spencer home." Aiden tells her quickly, sending Spencer another stupid smile.

Ugh, if he smiles like that again I'm gonna cut his fucking lips off and stick them to his ass!

"Actually Aid." Taylor looks at him and then at me, immediately grasping the situation. "It would be more environmentally friendly if Ashley gave Spence a lift, considering that she's also giving me a lift and Spencer lives right next to me. It would be rather impractical for both you and Ashley to go completely out of your way to give lifts to people who live right next door to each other don't you agree?"

How I love her geographical reasoning. Although, I'm slightly amazed that even with a bashed in head she still manages to pull it off. I think I tend to underestimate her a little bit.

"That is true Aid." I jump in quickly as Taylor gives me what I think is supposed to be a wink. With the bandage right above her eye I can't quite tell.

"Yeah that makes sense." Spencer agrees and I'm pleased to say that in my opinion she looks a little relieved.

Aiden, however, looks crushed. I wanna laugh so bad right now. He's pouting like someone just blew up the gym.

Yeah, okay, I admit that I'm being a bit of a bitch to him. I do actually like him, he's one of my best friends but right now he's just pissing me off. And a pissed off Ashley is a bitch.

Aiden wanders off after that and Taylor, Spencer and I head back towards my Porsche. Taylor is staggering slightly and I can see the whole left side of the white bandage slowly turning red with blood.

"You sure you're alright Tay?" I ask and I notice Spencer smiling at me out of the corner of my eye. Huh, maybe I should act like a concerned friend more often, girls seem to like it.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good." We reach the car and she drops her bag and leans against it, inhaling deeply. I'm pretty sure she's not okay but I shrug and grab her kitbag, throwing it in my trunk before I open the door for her to climb in the back.

Out of my peripheral vision I can see Spencer looking at me and I turn to face her. She cocks her head to the side in the most adorable head tilt I have ever seen in my life. I'm talking so darn cute that I just got that sensation when your legs turn to jelly. Whoa, that's seriously trippy.

"You sure she's alright?" Spencer asks me in a low voice.

"Nope." I shrug once I've stopped swaying. "But there's not much I can do. Taylor's stubborn as hell."

It's true. Last year we were making each other do stupid dares. I dared Taylor to keep her hand on a boiling hot radiator for two minutes. Seriously, don't even ask. We were _really_ bored. So to cut a long story short Taylor burned the palm of her hand to the point where the skin was peeling off and blistered just to prove to me that she could do it.

"But you're her best friend." Spencer looks at me all expectant, like that makes all the difference.

"Yeah, but I'm not bloody superwoman." I retort in my usual witty manner.

"I dunno about that." Spencer grins and I swear to God that if I wasn't sure I was imagining things it almost looks like a flirty grin. "I'm sure you'd look great in the costume."

Well, fuck me. Maybe I do have a shot at getting into this girls pants after all. Score!

"Davies! Carlin! Stop fucking flirting, get in the bloody car and drive me home before I kill you both. It feels like someone's dropped a freaking elephant on my head and I'm not too happy about it!"

Spencer and I exchange a look before we both burst into laughter. It's probably one of the best sounds I've ever heard, her full out laughing. It's husky and deep and the most beautiful timbre...and holy shit, what the fuck am I saying? This is getting really weird. Beautiful Timbre? Really Ash?

"Okay Tay." I chuckle as I open the door to allow Spencer to jump into the passenger seat. She sends me a beaming smile and I can't help but smile back.

"Ashley! Stop smiling like a fool and drive the damn car!"

Oops. I forgot she was still there. Something about Spencer makes me forget everything around me. It's like she gives me temporary amnesia every time she smiles. It's seriously freaking me out.

I start the car and drive out of the parking lot without killing anybody. Quite the accomplishment if I may say so myself, considering Spencer is sitting right next to me.

As we're driving, I notice Spencer glancing in the wing mirror every few minutes, obviously checking to see that Taylor's still with us. She's so sweet. Like, you know when you meet people and you can tell straight away that they're going to heaven with bells on to be greeted at the golden gates by a choir of angels and perhaps even Jesus himself? Spencer is definitely one of those people.

"What did the Doc say Tay?" I turn to my best friend, who's looking pretty worse for wear in the back seat.

"Doc? She's no Doctor; just the Mum of one of the girl's on the team who's qualified to do first aid." Taylor replies. "She said if the medical strips don't hold, I probably need stitches and as you can see." She waves her hand in the general direction of her head. "I don't think they're holding."

"Should we take a detour to the hospital?" Spencer bites her lip in worry and it's so sexy my stomach does this freaky jerky thing. Like when I have that recurring dream about riding a giraffe across Africa and I fall off its back and my stomach goes weird, it's kinda feels like that sans the giraffe.

"No." Taylor's voice is firm. Like Spencer's ass. "No hospitals."

Taylor never says anything about it but her Dad once told me that she's never set foot in a hospital since her Mom died. I turn to Spencer and shake my head, hoping she'll get the hint not to push the subject. Luckily, she does because as I pull into Spencer and Taylor's road she says:

"My Mom's a doctor; she should have finished her shift by now. She could take a look at you if you want."

I'm pretty sure Taylor's going to refuse. If there's one thing she hates, it's accepting help from other people. Especially if it mean she's going to be poked and prodded around.

"Sure, that sounds great."

Okay then, I obviously don't know her at all. Or maybe she's in more pain than she's letting on.

"Alright, well I'll go in ahead and tell my Mom." I pull up to the kerb and Spencer jumps out and runs down the path. I watch her ass for a moment before getting out and helping Taylor from my Cayenne.

She leans heavily against me and I almost fall over. What? I'm not weak or anything but Taylor's fucking heavy!

We start to shuffle down the path to the Carlin house and I turn to look at her, surprised to see this massive, dopey smile splayed comically across her face. Maybe she's concussed or something.

"What are you so happy about?" I ask as we reach the front door.

She turns to me and her smile is so wide that it looks like she's seriously overdosed on Prozac. Then she leans towards me and whispers conspiratorially in my ear:

"Mrs. Carlin is a total MILF."

* * *

Thanks for reading.

Thanks fo reviewing last time. Shout-out to the newest of a lovely bunch: SouthMusiq91, slushhy, bitten2, chunkymonkey3, lnkmstr10, Shipper4life and flooj9235.

And for those who wanted to know, yes I am indeed English. I'm a born and bred North Londoner.


	5. Meet the Parents

Hey guys, thanks once again for the absolutely amazing feedback I've been getting for this story. I've really appreciated it.

Unfortunately, this is the last chapter of my pre-written material so you might have to wait a little longer between updates. Although I'll try my very best to be as frequent as I can but I just got a new job at Sportsworld and college starts back up soon so I'm not entirely sure about how much time I'll have on my hands.

Enjoy Chapter 5.

* * *

I crack up just as the door swings open and Spencer's standing there in all her blonde glory. She arches a perfect eyebrow in my direction but I'm too busy guffawing like an idiot to answer her questioning look.

"What's so funny?" She asks in this little confused voice, which yep, you guessed it, I found utterly adorable.

"Nothing." I breathe out, my laughter receding into chuckles.

A tall, dark haired man appears behind Spencer and I now know where she gets her eyes from. His are the exact same shade of electric blue.

"Taylor?" He asks in concern, immediately spotting her bloody forehead. "What happened?"

"Got head butted." Taylor shrugs nonchalantly, like getting head butted is a daily occurrence for her.

"Mom's already in the living room with the first aid kit." Spencer explains to him as Taylor and I shuffle through the threshold. Mr. Carlin takes hold of Taylor's elbow and helps her through to the lounge with Spencer and I following behind.

I spot who I assume is Spencer's Mom perched on the couch in front of the fattest first aid kit I have ever seen in my life. I could probably fit my whole body in that thing! Don't worry I'm not going to try because firstly, I don't want Spencer's parents to think I'm crazy and secondly, the last time I said I could fit my whole body into something I ended up wedged in a trunk for thirty minutes until Taylor could come and bust me out. Not fun.

Mr Carlin sits Taylor down on the couch and Mrs Carlin immediately goes into doctor mode, asking her questions, whilst removing the bandage and inspecting the cut which is still oozing blood. Taylor just sits there looking extremely happy to be poked and prodded around by the older blonde.

She's right by the way. Mrs Carlin is pretty hot. She's tall, slim and has great legs but in my personal opinion, she doesn't hold a candle to her daughter. `

"Would you like something to drink?" Spencer whispers in my ear as I linger awkwardly in the doorway, a delectable shiver running down my spine as her warm breath hits my neck.

"Sure." I offer her a small smile. "I'll come with." I don't think I can stand Taylor getting off on being fawned over by Mommy Carlin for much longer.

I follow Spencer into the kitchen, unable to resist checking out her ass as she walks slightly in front of me.

"What can I get you?" She asks as she turns to face me. I quickly avert my eyes but there's something about her expression that makes me think that she knows exactly what I was just doing.

"Glass of water will be fine thanks."

Spencer nods and turns to reach up and grab a glass from the cabinet. As she does so her shirt rides up , giving me a nice view of some of the smoothest, lower back skin I have ever seen. You know when you get the urge to reach out and touch something when you know you're not supposed to? Yep, I am totally getting that urge right now. I think my hand just spasmed a little bit.

Jesus Ashley, get a grip!

"Ash? Ashley?"

Oops. I was too busy internally berating myself to notice that Spencer is now standing in front of me, waving her free hand in front of my face.

"Sorry." I take the water she's holding out to me and give her my best smile. You know the one with the nose crinkle? Apart from my car and my body, that's the other thing that gets me the ladies.

"That's okay." She smiles back and my stomach does the 'falling off the giraffe' thing again. "We should get back in there." She points towards the living room. "My Mom's probably finished stitching Taylor up by now."

"I hope so." I reply. "Because I'm not going back in there until Taylor is an appropriate distance away from your Mother."

"What do you mean?" She tilts head to the side and that's the second time I've fallen off that damn giraffe in the space of a minute.

"Sorry to be the one to tell you this but Tay thinks your Mom is a total MILF."

"A what?"

Aw, bless her little, cotton socks. She's so innocent!

Er, what the fuck? Did I just bless her cotton socks? She's not even wearing socks for fucks sake, she's bare foot...but her feet are actually really cute. Is it weird that I find Spencer's cute feet kind of a turn on?

"Er, Ashley? Why are you staring at my feet?"

Shit.

"I was just admiring them." I tell her, internally hitting myself in the head with an anvil as she looks slightly weirded out. "Anyway, as I was saying before, a MILF is a 'Mom I'd like to fuck', so basically, Taylor wants to fuck your Mom."

I have to laugh at the look on her face. It's somewhere between disgust and disbelief with a side portion of revulsion.

"Ew. I'd rather you hadn't told me that." She says after a moment in this whiny voice that is seriously adorable.

"Sorry." I chuckle slightly. "But you did ask."

"Yeah, I know. Remind me never to ask again."

I laugh lightly and take a sip of my water.

"I'm glad I came to the game today." Spencer breaks the silence. "I admit I was a bit apprehensive at first. Taylor told me you were going to be there and Madison's kinda told me a lot of things about you..."

Fucking Madison!

"Well I'm glad you came too." I tell her honestly. "And don't listen to a word Madison says because everything she says about me is complete bullshit."

"So you're not gay?" Spencer asks after a moment and if I'm not mistaken I swear she sounds kind of disappointed.

"Let me rephrase that. Don't listen to anything Madison says because _most _of it is bullshit." I send her my infamous cheeky smile.

"So, you are gay?" She tilts her head at me in confusion.

"Yep." I nod. "I'm gayer than Justin Bieber in a mankini."

She laughs as I cringe at the image I just gave myself. I'm definitely having nightmares about that tonight.

"Good to know." She says with a cute smile.

Hmm...What does that mean? Good to know as in, 'Great you're gay. That's cool.' Or as in 'Great you're gay, me too, let's fuck!'

If only I could read minds. Although, if did I don't think I could be friends with Taylor. Some of the shit floating around in that brain of hers would most likely scar me for life.

"Come on." Spencer nods towards the door. "They've probably finished by now."

"Let's hope so." I smirk in her direction. "But I blame you if I go in there to see your Dad tied up on the floor and Taylor molesting your Mom."

"Ashley!" She slaps me hard on the shoulder as I bolt out of the doorway and almost crash straight into Mr Carlin, who simply smiles warmly at me and continues his short walk to the kitchen.

We reach the living room just in time to hear Taylor say:

"I've got to say Mrs Carlin the place looks great. You have a much better eye for interior design than my last neighbours."

You have got to be shitting me! What a fucking suck up! Mrs Carlin is never gonna fall for that line of crap.

"Well thank you Taylor. And please, call me Paula." Mrs Carlin offers Taylor a huge smile.

Okay then, maybe I was wrong. I glance over at Spencer to see her looking between Taylor and her mother with a suspicious look. I can't help but let out a small snort, this shit is actually kinda funny.

"And who's this Spencer?"

Mommy Carlin has now turned her attention to me and I have to admit that I feel kind of uncomfortable under her scrutinising gaze.

"This is Taylor's best friend, Ashley Davies." Spencer introduces me and I smile when she says my full name. It sounds so sexy coming from her lips.

"Ashley Davies?" Spencer's Mom repeats my name and it doesn't sounds sexy at all when she says it. In fact, the way she said it makes me think that I might have been mentioned to her before. That cannot be a good thing. Who the fuck has she been talking to?

"Yeah. It's nice to meet you Mrs Carlin."

Spencer's Mom says nothing. She doesn't say it's nice to meet me and she definitely doesn't say that I can call her Paula. Is it me or did the atmosphere in here just get decidedly tense?

I think Taylor is feeling it too because she breaks the silence.

"Thanks so much for stitching me up Paula." She sends the older blonde a half-smile. The same half-smile she sends girls when we're out chasing tail may I add. "I can tell you're an excellent doctor."

"It's not a problem Taylor." Paula sends her a warm smile. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

I see Taylor bite her lip and shoot a look in my direction. Out of my peripheral vision I can also see Spencer frowning at her Mom.

And so she should! What the fuck did I do? I've never even met the woman and she already hates my guts.

"I'd love to." Taylor smiles. I'm going to kill her. How could she do this to me? "But I'm afraid I already have plans with Ashley tonight. Maybe some other time?"

Thank God. Sometimes I really don't give her enough credit, oh well; I'll buy her a fruit basket or something to show my appreciation.

"Oh, okay." Paula replies glaring in my direction, as though it's my fault that my best friend would rather spend time with me than her. "Another time."

"For sure." Taylor has the audacity to wink at the older Carlin, who just smiles back; apparently completely oblivious to the fact that Taylor is acting more like a horny lesbian than a friendly neighbour.

They both stand up and we all start to move towards the front door, Spencer throwing me an apologetic smile as we go. I don't know why, it's not her fault her Mom's a bitch.

"Well goodbye Taylor. It was so lovely to meet you. If your injury starts to bother you don't hesitate to call okay?" She says in a sweet voice and for a second I think that she might not be so bad. That is until she turns to me with cold eyes. "Goodbye Ashley."

"Goodbye." I reply, making sure my tone matches hers exactly.

Taylor opens the door and grabs my elbow, forcing me away from my staring match with Paula Carlin. Spencer follows us out onto the pathway.

"Sorry about her Ashley." She says immediately, biting her lip guiltily.

"Don't worry about it Spencer. It's cool." I reassure her.

And it is. I'm used to parents hating me, for some reason they think I'm a bad influence. I am slightly disappointed though. For some reason it mattered more to me what Spencer's parents thought of me than it did with any of the others. Oh well, at least her Dad didn't seem too bad.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. No worries." I shrug and reach over to pat her lightly on the shoulder. I quickly withdraw my hand as it instantly begins to tingle at the contact.

"Okay. Well I'll see you guys at school?"

"Yeah, maybe we can hang out again sometime? I had fun today." I tell her and throw in a nose crinkle smile just for the hell of it.

"Me too." She grins back and we stare at each other stupidly for a moment. That is until my ass of a best friend ruins it.

"Come on Ash." She grabs my hand. "Stop eye-shagging and walk me home. I'm bloody knackered!"

Spencer blushes about ten different shades of red and ducks her head as I send Taylor a death glare. She laughs it off and starts to walk down the path.

"Bye Spencer." She waves a lazy hand.

I turn back to the girl in front of me and smile when I see that her cheeks are still slightly flushed.

"Ignore her. She's a dick." I tell her and am pleased when she laughs that melodious laugh of hers.

"Yeah." She nods. "She is. So I'll see you around?"

I nod.

"Yeah. I'll see you around Carlin."

"Bye Ashley."

We exchange one more smile before I jog down the path to catch up with Taylor. I can hear her sniggering loudly a mile away and hip-check her as hard as I can when I reach her, which results in me rebounding off of her and almost falling over.

"What's so funny?" I ask as we start the short walk to Taylor's house.

"Paula hates your guts! Did you see the way she was looking at you?" She chuckles as though it's the funniest thing ever. Bitch.

"Yeah I did thanks; it wasn't exactly hard to miss. What the fuck did I do to her anyway?" I complain as we reach the front door and Taylor fishes around in her jeans pocket for her keys.

"Spencer told me that her Mum's one of those hardcore, devout Catholic types. I'd bet my bike that she's a total homophobe." She shrugs as she opens the door.

"But how does she even know I'm gay?" I ask. Seriously, has she been like stalking me or something?

"Your reputation does kind of precede you Ash." Taylor flashes me a smile and I'm not sure whether to feel proud or annoyed by her statement. She makes me sound like a complete whore. "I'd wager that she heard about you somewhere in the parent committee pipeline."

Damn those bitches!

Pretty much all the parents of the cheer-whores hate me because their stupid daughters go home and tell them that I tried to molest them. I wouldn't touch those skanks with a bargepole for crying out loud! Unfortunately for me, they're all on the parents committee so any new kids parents are definitely gonna be told to watch out for me in case I try and give their kids herpes.

And I haven't even got herpes! Oh, the injustice of it all.

"Wait a minute..." Something occurs to me. "If she's a homophobe, then why does she like you? You're even gayer than I am!"

It's true too. It's almost blindingly obvious that Taylor's a lesbian; she literally goes out of her way to fit the stereotype. She has short, floppy brown hair, massive arms, owns a cat, is extremely athletic and even wears button-down flannel shirts! And if that's not enough to give it away she has a massive tattoo of a dragon breathing rainbow-coloured fire above the word 'Pride' on her left bicep.

"I dunno." Taylor shrugs as we walk into the living room. "I guess it's my natural charm. Homophobic or not, women just can't resist me." She grins wolfishly and runs a hand over her body, dragging her tank top up slightly and showing off her tight abs.

If there's one thing that Taylor and I have in common, it's our lack of modesty.

"Er, what charm?" I reach up to flick her forehead.

"Whatever Davies." Taylor smirks as I follow her into the kitchen.

She reaches into the fridge and pulls out two bottles of beer, before twisting the caps off and handing one to me, as I perch on the countertop.

"So did you have fun with Spencer at the game today?" She asks, after taking a large swig.

The question is asked in her typical indifferent fashion but the glint in her hazel eyes is telling me that she's more interested in my answer than she's letting on.

"Yeah I did." I answer honestly, tugging at the label on my bottle. "She's pretty good company actually."

"Yeah. Smoking hot too." Taylor winks at me and an odd sensation bubbles in my stomach at hearing her talk about Spencer that way. I don't know why, we talk about girl's like that all the time, Spencer shouldn't be any different.

"That she is." I nod, ignoring the weird feeling. Maybe I'm just hungry or something.

I look up from my beer bottle to see Taylor surveying me through thoughtful eyes, her head cocked slightly to the side. Her head tilt is nowhere near as effective as Spencer's...

What the hell! Why does every other thought I have seem to revolve around the girl only met a week ago?

"What?" I snap. I really don't like people analysing me.

"Nothing." Taylor shrugs and she's really starting to piss me off with her stupid shrugging. "You hungry?"

"Starving." I reply with a grin.

Now we're talking. Taylor's a brilliant cook; it's probably a result of the fact that she has to cook for herself most days of the week because her Dad is always at work.

"We still on for Friday night?" Taylor asks me, as she pulls an assortment of pots and pans from the cupboard above her head.

Taylor and I go out pretty much every Friday night to a local club, Gray. It's our night of the week to just let loose, get drunk and get laid. We have an ongoing competition to try and bag the hottest girl in the club and I'm proud to say that it's normally me who wins. Taylor always seems to attract some serious freaks.

"Of course." I tell her, watching as she pulls various ingredients from the fridge.

Just as I'm about to offer to help I'm interrupted by a noise that sends shivers of terror down my spine and makes my blood run cold.

"Meow!"

Taylor's evil tabby cat from hell trudges boldly into the kitchen, narrowing his glowing, yellow eye in my direction as he passes by the counter.

"Cloppy!" Taylor all but squeals when she sees him, picking him up and cradling him to her chest like he's the most precious thing to ever grace the earth. As she's nuzzling her face into his ugly, grey fur he turns his squashed little face in my direction and sends me this little, gloating smirk. Like he thinks that I'm jealous that Taylor isn't nuzzling my hair or something. Stupid cat.

After Madison and Aiden, Cloppy is the bane of my existence and has been ever since Taylor and I met. The first time I ever went to Taylor's house, I left with one sock, ripped shorts and a savaged arm with Taylor having the audacity to insist that he was just being friendly because if there's one thing you should know, it's that in the world of Taylor Jones the sun shines out of Cloppy's ass.

She's had him since she was eight years old because her parents didn't want any more children and were worried that she would get lonely. So they sent her down to the animal shelter to pick out a cute, little kitten but Taylor being Taylor returned with Cyclops, the one-eyed tailless spawn of the cat devil.

"Look Cloppy, Mummy has a boo-boo." Taylor coos, lifting Cloppy up further to see her gauze-covered cut.

I don't think she has any idea how ridiculous she sounds when she baby talks to that monster. I might film her one day and show her. After I post it on Facebook that is.

"And look baby, it's your Auntie Ashley!" The next thing I know Taylor has thrust the damn thing in my face.

"Taylor!" I yell, clenching my eyes shut before Cloppy tries to blind me with his inch long claws. I'm convinced that since he only has one eye he's gonna try and steal one of mine.

Taylor just laughs and thankfully pulls the disgusting ball of fur away from me. Even three years after Cloppy and I declared war on each other Taylor still doesn't seem able to comprehend that I don't like her cat.

My stomach rumbles loudly and Taylor laughs.

"Alright Ash, I get the picture." She says, setting Cloppy down on the floor, which I'm pleased to see he doesn't look too happy about. Haha cat, you lose, I'm getting fed before you are. I discreetly stick my tongue out at him when Taylor's not looking.

Cloppy just stares back at me, an evil grin forming on his face before he lets out the most pitiful mewl possible.

"Meow!"

"Oh, I'm sorry buddy!" Taylor picks up her beloved cat and turns to face me. "I'm just gonna go and feed Cloppy and then I'll be right back."

She hoists him onto her shoulder and heads out of the room with Cloppy smirking at me over her shoulder.

Damn it. 1-0 to Cloppy.

I _really _hate that cat.

* * *

Thanks for reading.

Shout-out to newest reviewers: krys, , sparkyleathers08, lisbet0513, grrr23, Doesitmeanjustice, nuageux, ifyouarechilly and Fumbling Towards Ectasy. Also, thanks to all those who have added the story to their favourites and alerted it. It's nice to know that peope are enjoying it as much as I am.


	6. A Change of Plan

Hey guys, sorry this took a little while. I couldn't seem to get it exactly the way I wanted it. Probably because this chapter was a lot harder to write plotwise. But I hope you enjoy it. Thanks.

* * *

I push between the sweaty masses of people on my usual hunt for the hottest, drunkest straight girl I can find.

It's Friday night at the club and I am totally ready to let loose. This week has been really weird. I'd normally spend it partying, flirting outrageously, getting drunk and hanging out with Taylor. But this week I've hardly been out at all, there has been absolutely no outrageous flirting and the only time I even got a little bit tipsy was when I had a couple of drinks at Taylor's house while we were watching Buffy box sets. How could this have happened to me? I'm losing my mojo!

In fact I think I might know exactly how this has happened to me. Two words:

Spencer Carlin.

Ever since that girl's wandered into my life I've been thrown completely off kilter. With her around I can't seem to be the cool, laid-back, womanizing Ashley Davies I'm so used to being. Instead, I turn into this, stuttering, blundering, foolish idiot of an Ashley Davies who keeps falling off a fucking giraffe every time that damn girl tilts her head!

It's seriously not good for my reputation. And it's about time that I put a stop to it.

I haven't got a wingman tonight because Taylor blew me off because her Dad asked her to have dinner with him before he goes to a conference in New York for two weeks. I know right? What a bitch. But let me tell you now, that's not gonna stop me from having sex with the best-looking chick in this place. In fact, nothing is.

Aha! I have spotted my target. There's a slim, bottle blonde in the centre of the dance floor, grinding drunkenly on some guys leg. Hm. Nice body. Big tits. Good ass. Great legs, but nowhere near as fine as Spencer's...

Fucking hell!

I had three rules for tonight and I've already broken rule number one: Do not think about Spencer Carlin.

Normally when I go out I get pretty carried away so Taylor and I always make up three golden rules to keep ourselves grounded. Numbers one and three vary depending on the situation but number two is always the same.

Rule number two: No sex with transsexuals.

What? It was one time! And in my defence the club was _really_ dark. Her Adam's apple totally looked like a shadow!

Anyway, I start to stalk towards the girl in a sexy, predatory manner, ready to pull my pray from the jaws of the competition.

Okay, I know I'm describing it like the voiceover from a programme on the discovery channel but believe me when I say I look sexy. The fact that I'm wearing a jean skirt that could pass for a belt and a tight waistcoat that's displaying so much cleavage you could probably stick your whole face in it and make motorboat noises if you wanted to (Which I know you do) is a large contributing factor.

When I reach the gyrating couple I stealthily use my razor sharp elbows to nudge the guy away. He's so drunk I don't think he even noticed because he stumbles off towards the bar.

I wrap my arms around the blonde and notice that she's got that glazed look in her eye. That glazed look that tells me that I'm getting some tonight because she is too far gone to give a fuck about the fact that I'm a girl. I love it when they're like this, although it's not much of a challenge.

I know I sound like a complete douche bag right now but think of it this way. These girls are completely vulnerable. Would you rather it was me who went home with them or some perverted guy? Uh-huh. That's what I thought.

She begins to grind against me, slipping a thigh snugly between my own as I stare over her shoulder, getting lost in the familiar feeling of being pressed up against the female body.

The girl leans up and starts to place sloppy, drunken kisses along my neck, moaning lightly against my skin.

That's right baby! Ashley Davies is back!

I inhale the pungent smell of vodka as her breath hits my face and she leans in to kiss me. Just as our lips are about to lock I make the fatal mistake of opening my eyes which were previously clenched tightly shut.

She looks identical to pretty much every other girl I've ever fucked. Not that I really remember any of them. They're all dyed hair and heavily made up faces, orange with caked on foundation.

I'm pretty sure Spencer's a natural blonde and she barely has to wear any make-up and she still looks absolutely gorgeous.

I feel the girl's breath on my lips as Spencer's angelic face swims to the forefront of my mind.

Shit.

I can't do this.

I push her lightly away before turning and shoving my way back across the club, fighting the urge to throw up. I'm not drunk, I've only had a few shots to loosen myself up since I got here but as I exit the club and breathe in the fresh air the enormity of what I just did hits me in the face like a massive frying pan.

I, Ashley Davies, just willingly walked away from sex.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

* * *

So now I find myself standing on my best friend's doorstop at half eleven at night, staring anxiously at the large wooden door.

I always run straight to Taylor if I'm in any kind of trouble. Lord knows why because normally she's utterly fucking useless!

But right now I couldn't give a shit. I think I'm broken and I need my best friend.

I bang loudly on the front, hoping she's still awake. Who am I kidding? Taylor's like nocturnal or something, she sits up playing on her Xbox until about two in the morning most nights.

The door swings open and Taylor's standing there wearing a pair of grey boxers and a white tank top, her short hair sticking up all over the place. If it wasn't for the Xbox controller clutched tightly in her left hand I would have actually thought that she was asleep. Her eyes widen in surprise when she sees me.

"I need to talk to you." I tell her gravely, pushing past her before she has the chance to speak and march down the hallway towards the living room.

Oh. My .God.

I freeze in the doorway when I spot the person sitting on the sofa. Aiden is sprawled in front of the TV, holding another controller and wearing a ridiculous headset, Cloppy curled around his massive shoulders.

Another reason why I hate that cat. He prefers Aiden to me. How is that even possible?

Taylor appears behind me and I turn to face her, the bitter betrayal seeping through me.

What a traitor!

"You told me your Dad was coming home tonight and you were spending time with him!" I yell at her cowering form, pointing an accusatory finger in her guilty face.

"He was I swear!" Taylor responds, but I'm not listening to her pathetic attempt to defend herself, I'm too preoccupied with figuring out the best way to tattoo the word 'Judas' to her forehead.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see Aiden getting hurriedly to his feet.

"Well it was nice hanging out with you Tay." He quickly slips between us and towards the door. "Bye Ash."

With that he runs off down the hall like a scared little girl. Coward. Although, admittedly it was a wise move because I was totally planning on moving onto him after I'd murdered Taylor.

As soon as the door was slammed I rounded on her again. I don't really even know why I'm so furious.

"So that's it is it?" I snap angrily. "You'd rather sit around and play stupid games with Aiden than hang out with your best friend?"

"No Ashley. It's not like that at all." Taylor holds up her hands in a submissive gesture. "My Dad got a work call half way through dinner and had to leave. I was gonna hit you up and see where you were at but then Aiden just randomly turned up on my doorstep asking if I wanted to hang out."

Oh.

Well now I feel like a complete ass.

"It's alright." Taylor pats my shoulder comfortingly. "Just try and give me the benefit of the doubt sometimes, Yeah?"

"Yeah. Sorry." I bite my lip, feeling totally guilty for ever even considering tattooing 'Judas' to her forehead.

I stare briefly at the ground for a moment before turning back to Taylor, who's looking at me with her trademark arched eyebrow.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours Ash?" She asks softly, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and leading me over to the leather couch.

I let out a loud sigh as I sit down beside her because I have no idea how to answer that question. I really have no fucking clue what's going on in my head at the moment.

"What are you doing back so early?" Taylor asks me after a pregnant pause. "I thought you'd be out all night. Couldn't find any cute girls to hook up with?"

"Nah, there were plenty of girls." I tell her truthfully, as she frowns in confusion.

"Then what are you doing here? Why aren't you out getting some?"

I took a deep breath, unsure of how to phrase my next sentence. Honestly, I never thought I'd be having this conversation.

"Taylor, I think I'm broken." I just blurt it out.

"Broken? What do you mean broken?"

Fucking hell! She isn't gonna make this easy for me is she?

"Cliff notes version? Ashley goes to club. Ashley finds an EDSG." That's Taylor and I's abbreviation for 'extremely drunk straight girl' by the way. "Ashley dances with EDSG. EDSG goes to kiss Ashley, a kiss that would normally result in Ashley getting it on with EDSG. However, Ashley then proceeds to freak out and run away."

I cringe as Taylor's eyes bug so far out of her head that she looks remarkably like a less green version of Kermit the frog. "So to sum up..." Taylor says slowly as though what I've just said has severely damaged her brain. "You ran away from sex?"

I flinch. Damn. It sounds even worse out loud.

"Basically." I swallow audibly. "I don't know what's wrong with me. What do I do Tay?"

"I don't have a clue." Taylor shrugs.

I told you she was useless.

"Why did you do it?" She continues after a moment. "Why did you freak out?"

"That's just it, I have no fucking idea!" I exclaim in frustration. "One moment I'm fine, enjoying dancing with this girl and then she goes in to kiss me and then suddenly I start thinking about Spencer and then I just had to get out of there!"

"Wait, what?" Taylor looks even more confused for a moment before the corners of her mouth begin to tilt upwards into one of her infamous dopey smiles.

What the fuck? I'm having a nervous breakdown and she has the audacity to sit there grinning like a hyena on Prozac. How very dare she.

"What are you fucking smiling about?" I send her my best scowl, which morphs into a petulant pout when she just carries on smiling.

"Do you want to know what I think about this whole thing?" Taylor says smugly.

No, not really. I actually kind of want to punch you in the face.

"Well I'm going to tell you anyway" Taylor chuckles, reading my face like a book. "I think you like her."

What? Who?

"Who?"

Taylor has the impudence to roll her eyes at me in a rather condescending manner. If she's not damn careful I'm gonna stab them out with a fork and shove them down her throat.

Wow. That was seriously sadistic. Forget Madison, I think I'm the one in need of some anger management.

"Spencer. I think you like her." Taylor's answers eventually. "And I'm not saying you like her as in want to fuck her, I mean you _like_ like her. As in you want to have her babies like her."

Huh?

Me. Like. Spencer?

Babies?

What?

"You should probably close your mouth Ash. You're at risk of swallowing a stampeding hippo." I vaguely feel Taylor's callused fingers on my chin as she snaps my gaping mouth shut.

Huh?

Stampeding Hippo? Ashley like Spencer?

What?

Eventually, I somehow manage to speak, my voice coming out in a high pitched squeak which I would have found funny if I wasn't in a complete state of shock.

"What?"

"You like her Ash." Taylor shrugs as though the notion is the simplest thing in the world. It's not by the way. I don't like like girls. I like to fuck girls. This is all kinds of wrong. But at the same time I can't help but think that what Taylor is kind of true. Oh God, I like Spencer Carlin.

"How did this even happen?" My voice comes out in a petulant whine as I fold my arms across my chest and unleash a fearsome pout at the innocent wall opposite me.

"Don't be so hard on yourself Ash." Taylor pats me consolingly on the shoulder.

Whatever. It's easy enough for her to say. I don't see her pining over a girl she met less than two weeks ago. This sucks! And what am I even supposed to do about it?

"What am I supposed to do now?" I voice my thoughts.

"What do you wanna do Ash?" Taylor replies because for some reason she seems to think that it's helpful to answer a question with another question. "Do you want to be with her?"

Be with her? As in date her? Whoa! That is so difficult for my mind to comprehend that I think I just had an aneurism.

I stop to think about it for a moment. It's true to say that she definitely elicits a different reaction from me than any girl ever has. Ever since we met I've spent an almost ridiculous amount of time thinking about her, I've dreamt about her almost every night and I'm not just talking about sex dreams, although there have been plenty of those too. But the weirdest thing of all is the way I feel when I'm physically in her presence. My palms get sweaty, my voice gets at least an octave higher and I just so happen to magically transform into a complete and utter fucktard.

But does that mean I want to date her?

I grab a pillow from the couch and bring it to my face before screaming into it as loud as I can. I really need some kind of release to all this horrible tension I'm feeling and if I'm not gonna get it sexually then I need to find another method. After I'm done screaming I start biting into it like some kind of rabid dog. What? I'm stressed. It's not like I've gone nuts or anything.

When I've finally removed the pillow from my face, I see Taylor looking at me as though she doesn't know whether to laugh or to phone the nearest psychiatric facility. Luckily for her she chooses the former.

"I'm gonna take that as a yes you do want to be with her." She chuckles as I throw the pillow at her head. Taylor just laughs even louder but quickly cringes when she catches it. "You can keep this." She tells me, throwing back the slightly drooled on cushion, whilst wiping her hands on her boxers.

I would have laughed at the disgusted look on her face but I'm just too depressed about this me liking Spencer thing. Does this mean I can't be a player anymore? Are my womanizing days over? Am I now just one of those regular lesbians who actually dates other girls? This is all so confusing.

I must look really pathetic because when I turn to face Taylor her expression is unusually sympathetic.

"C'mere." She says, opening her arms as I willingly sink into them.

Taylor isn't the most affectionate person you'll ever meet but damn is she a good hugger. She's always warm, no matter how cold it is, she always smells good and if you're lucky enough to get a real Taylor Jones hug then you can't help but feel completely safe and secure.

"What am I gonna do Tay?" I mumble into her shoulder.

"Well first we've got to find out a few things. First one being if she's actually gay." Taylor tells me softly. "And there's one more thing you should know."

I draw back so I can look her in the eyes. She's biting her lip slightly and I know that I'm not gonna like what she's about to say next.

"Aiden likes her too."

I knew it!

Fuck that tool! I knew I should have killed him when I had the chance!

"That's why he came over. He wanted to talk to me about it." Taylor tells me. "He's gonna ask her out on Monday."

Well that's just fucking fantastic.

"Why? Why Spencer? Of all the girls in the world he just has to want her doesn't he?" I lean despairingly against Taylor's shoulder. "I can't compete with him Tay. I don't have biceps the size of melons or stupid boyish good looks or dazzling green eyes..."

My overactive imagination takes control and I picture Spencer and Aiden walking down the aisle arm in arm, her looking stunning in her wedding dress and him looking ridiculously handsome in his tux. Then there's me standing at the side throwing handfuls of confetti over the happy couple. And for some strange reason I'm dressed in one of those hessian potato sacks.

"Hey Ash. Don't freak out." Taylor rubs my back lightly as I desperately try to figure out a way to make potato sacks look fashionable. "Just remember that you have something that Aiden doesn't."

"What's that?"

I pull away from her so that I can see her face. A mischievous smirk is tugging at her lips.

"You, my girl, have an absolutely fantastic, talented, extremely good-looking best friend who just so happens to have a brilliant plan."

* * *

Thanks for reading.

Big thank you to all of those who reviewed last time. Shout-out to Cobrastryke, somthgIlike2do, leli240593ari, Galmil, Alex-Paige-4ever, drummergirl244 and Ezo Ookami. Much appreciated.


	7. The SAFASOP

Heya folks, sorry about the slight delay. With work, college, obligatory social interaction and Xbox time it's pretty tough to juggle everything at once. But you should know that this fic is definitely near the top of my priorities (Coming in at a close second after the Xbox).

This chapter is a bit of a piss around really. I was in one of those moods when I wrote it so it might be a little random and farfetched. But I hope you enjoy it regardless. I apologise if the pace is a bit slow but that's just the way I work really. I don't like to move too fast because I'm always scared I'm gonna miss something.

And could I just say; 107 reviews? Wow. That literally blows my mind. Never expected such a great response but am extremely grateful for it.

* * *

What the fuck have I dug myself into this time?

That's the question that has been continuously floating around in my head for the better part of ten minutes.

It's Monday morning and as usual I'm sitting on my regular picnic bench in the quad with my gigantic sunglasses perched on my nose, attempting to chillax in the morning sun.

The only thing is that I can't chill or even relax for that matter. I keep glancing around constantly just to check that Aiden isn't within a twenty foot radius of Spencer.

Bet you're all wondering about Taylor's plan huh? Well let me tell you now, it's quite possibly the shittiest plan I've ever heard in my life. You were probably all thinking that it was gonna be some kind of stroke of genius weren't you? Well then you should probably know that although Taylor has many talents she's never exactly been the brightest crayon in the box.

Taylor and education just don't mix. It's not that she couldn't be smart if she wanted to, for instance she knows a lot about the environment and all that shit but let me put it this way, Taylor actually thought that Algebra was some kind of ancient Greek language until last year. And she'd supposedly been studying it for the past two years.

Speaking of Taylor, I can see her clearly from all the way across the quad. She's not exactly hard to miss because funnily enough she's the only one dressed in black slacks, shirt and massive trench coat because a) normal people just don't wear that shit and b) Even if they did, they wouldn't today because it's like 80 degrees outside.

As you might have guessed, Taylor's taking her part as accomplice to the plan _way _too seriously.

Ah yes. The plan. Also known as The SAFASOP. SAFASOP is Taylor's ingenious abbreviation for the Stop Aiden from Asking Spencer out Plan.

Yep, that's the plan. Basically, we're gonna monitor Spencer and Aiden's whereabouts the entire day and make sure that Aiden doesn't get the slightest opportunity to ask her out. In the meantime, it's my job to figure out what I'm gonna do about the whole me liking Spencer thing.

I don't even know where to start with that one.

I lean back and let out a loud yawn. I feel like I'm dying of tiredness. Taylor and I stayed up until two in the morning finalising the plan last night. And by finalising I mean...

"_But Taylor, I want to be the Barbie with the pink shirt!" I whine, folding my arms across my pyjama clad chest and pouting childishly. _

"_No Ashley." Taylor replies firmly. "Spencer has to be the one with the pink shirt because she's blonde."_

"_Why can't we just swap the shirts?"_

"_Because I said so." Taylor sticks her tongue out at me._

"_Then you're not allowed to be action man." I say, grabbing the doll from her hand._

"_Ashley! That's not fair!" Taylor shouts, reaching over to try and grab it back. "They're my toys!" _

"_Then let me be the Barbie with the pink shirt or you have to be Ken."_

"_No!" Taylor screeches as though the idea gives her physical pain. "Aiden has to be Ken because he's such a poof! I'm action man because he kicks arse! Now give it back!"_

"_No! Not until you let me be the pink Barbie!"_

And that's how we, two seventeen year old high school girls, spent our weekend.

She still didn't let me be the pink Barbie you know. I sulked for about fifteen minutes until she compromised by yanking one of Ken's/Aiden's arms off. That was fun, although I'd much rather it have been a different appendage. Stupid anatomically incorrect toys.

I'm distracted as my cell phone starts to vibrate and I dig around in my jeans pocket for a minute before successfully extracting it. It's the price you have to pay for wearing jeans that make your ass look great.

Checking the caller ID I roll my eyes. Let me tell you now, the first time the God of Sex phoned me I was kind of freaked out. That was until I found out about Taylor's knack for stealing people cells and changing her caller ID name on a regular basis. So now I don't even bat an eye when I get a text from Barack Obama.

"What?" I snap.

"_Is that you Purple Beaver?" _

I so should never have let her choose the codenames. Purple Beaver? What the fuck? Why not just call me badly dyed pubes?

"No, Taylor. It's Ashley." I tell her and I can see her frowning at me from across the quad, even with her face covered in shadow by that ridiculous trilby she's wearing.

"_Purple Beaver!" _She whines and I chuckle when I see her stomp her foot slightly. _"We're supposed to be using our codenames!" _

"Sorry Sergeant T. J. Cobra." I reply and can't help but roll my eyes when her face lights up. "Why are you phoning me?"

"_We have a situation."_ Taylor tells me, using her extra low voice. Which is seriously not necessary by the way. _"Code Rainbow."_

Code Rainbow? What the fuck is that? Damn it. I knew I should have paid more attention to what Taylor was saying instead of making the damn Barbie's make out with each other.

"_You don't know what Code Rainbow is do you?"_ I cringe at Taylor's annoyed tone. _"I even stuck a copy of the colour-coded key I designed to the back of your bedroom door."_

Oh. So that's what that was.

"_Anyway,"_ Taylor continues as though she's speaking to someone either very young or very old. _"I was going to use the plain old code red but then I thought that it wasn't very original. Therefore, Code Rainbow was born. Code Red was just too negative and although it normally stands for something negative I thought I'd make the negativity more colourful -," _

"Taylor!" The frown returns. "Sorry, I mean Sergeant T.J. Cobra. What does Code Rainbow mean?"

"_Oh. Right. Well basically, it means that the evil blue bush baby has directly approached the golden unicorn and they have engaged in social intercourse." _

Er...What?

"What?"

"_For fucks sake Ashley!" _Taylor yells. Thanks Tay, kinda needed that eardrum. _"It means that Spencer and Aiden are by the lockers talking to each other!" _

Shit!

"Fuck! What should I do?"

"_I think now would be the perfect time for Operation Lightning Bolt."_

Operation what now?

"_What the fuck were you doing all weekend other than making the Barbie's make out with each other?" _

"Honestly? Not much. But seriously what do I do?"

"_Bloody hell Ash! Run over there and interrupt them!"_

Oh. I can do that.

I jump to my feet and put my hands on my hips, quickly spotting where Spencer and Aiden are. The latter of the two is leaning up against the lockers as though he's in some kind of body spray advert. What a douche.

"_Good luck Purple Beaver."_

I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear Taylor's voice in my ear. I had totally forgotten that she was still on the phone.

"Thanks Sergeant. Purple Beaver out!"

Hm. In hindsight, maybe I shouldn't have yelled that so loudly in a public area. A group of sophomore's are now looking at me as though I have two heads.

I slip my phone into my back pocket before I take off at lightning speed across the quad. And by lightning speed I mean a slow jog.

I get into earshot just in time to hear the evil blue bush baby say:

"So Spencer, I was wondering..."

Shit!

Now I really start to sprint even though my lungs are on fire and I have a serious stitch. I really need to do more exercise.

Just as I'm about to reach them and interrupt, something happens. Something so absurd that I can't really believe it's actually real.

I slip on a banana skin that some motherfucker has thrown on the floor and the momentum of my sprint sends me about three feet behind where Spencer is standing and straight into a trashcan.

I. Kid. You. Not.

That's right; I am currently situated headfirst in a trashcan with my legs dangling hopelessly in the air behind me. You know that scene in Mean Girls when Lindsay Lohan is walking down the corridor and randomly falls into the bin? I'm pretty sure that's what I must look like right now.

One thing Mean Girls failed to show you however was how much falling into a trashcan fucking hurts! I think I just broke some ribs or something because my chest is killing me. Not to mention it smells like shit in here.

Why God? Why do you hate me _so _much?

The next thing I feel is hands on my ankles trying in vain to heave me bodily from the bin.

"Oh my God Ashley! Are you okay?" Spencer's concerned voice asks from somewhere above me. "Aiden! Will you give me a hand?"

I can vaguely hear that toolbag guffawing in the background and if my feet weren't suspended vertically in the air I would so have kicked him in the balls by now.

Suddenly, a pair of strong arms that are too big to be Spencer's but too small to be Aiden's wrap around my waist and drag me from the trashcan.

I'm not entirely sure I wanted to be pulled out actually because when Taylor sets me on my feet I immediately become aware of the fact that a small group of people have formed around the area and they're all pretty much pissing themselves laughing at my misfortune.

Jeez, it's almost like they've never seen someone slip on a banana skin and fall into a bin before.

"Are you okay?" Spencer is the first one to speak because Aiden and Taylor are too busy laughing at me. Bitches.

"Er, yeah, I'm fine. It's all good."

Oh God. I've suddenly become acutely aware of the fact that the girl I fancy just witnessed me falling head first into a fucking trashcan. This cannot be a good thing.

"Are you sure?" Spencer asks again, peering into my face which is probably a rather impressive ten different shades of red.

"Yeah." I mutter, glancing around desperately for an escape plan.

Taylor finally manages to stop laughing at me and reaches over to clap me on the back.

"Good job Purple Beaver. Code Rainbow has been successfully stabilised." She tells me, still sniggering slightly as Spencer and Aiden look confused. "And Ash? I think you have a piece of gum in your hair."

What?

No! Not the hair!

I reach up to touch my hair and almost burst into tears when I feel the large sticky lump that's tangled firmly smack bang on the top of my head.

Who even puts their gum in the bin anymore for fucks sake?

This day just couldn't get any worse.

"I'll come to the toilets with you and help you get it out Ashley."

Or maybe it could.

That was Spencer by the way. The exact same Spencer who I apparently have a massive crush on. The exact same Spencer that just saw me completely humiliate myself by going ass over tit into a trashcan is now offering to go to the toilets with me and yank a wad of gum out of my hair. That's just brilliant.

"That's okay." I tell her quickly. "I'm sure you have other stuff you'd rather be doing. I'll just get Taylor to give me a hand."

I turn and give Taylor a stare that clearly says 'If you don't help me I will brutally murder you' but she quickly averts her gaze, fidgeting slightly.

She wouldn't dare...

"Actually Ash. I have to meet someone before class." Taylor says slowly, cringing a little when she notices the steam that I'm almost definite is coming from my ears. "But I'm sure Spencer would do a better job than me anyway. I'd just end up yanking half your hair out."

That's true. But so not the point. How can she abandon me like this? What happened to never leaving a man down?

"Come on then Ashley." Spencer sends me a dazzling smile and grabs my wrist, which starts to tingle as soon as her hand wraps around it. As she leads me away I can't help but revel in how smooth her palms are. I'm almost starting to think that this won't be so bad after all...

"We should hurry. Once the gum hardens it will be a nightmare to get out. Whilst it's still a little bit moist we have more of a chance."

And let's give a warm welcome back to Mr. Reality.

Fuck. My. Life.

* * *

Thanks for reading.

Massive thank you to Candie275, jessiestar, Shain777 and Chobitsk19. And of course to everyone who reviewed/alerted/favourited. Thanks.


	8. The Time to Grow Some is Upon Us

I've had some time to get this written up and posted today because I've been off sick from my hangover induced illness. Got absolutely shitfaced this weekend. Why you ask? Well I'll tell you why, because I spent fifty five pounds to go to the Emirates and watch my team lose 3-2 to West Brom. What the fuck is that? Like seriously? Chelsea lose, we get the chance to go within one point of the top and what do we do? Completely blow it and lose to West Bromwich Albion! And don't even get me started on the keeper situation. What an absolute joke.

But my loss is your guys gain (I hope) because I've managed to hash something out. If I'm honest I don't actually have a clue where this is going at the moment but we'll just have to wait and see.

Thanks. I hope you enjoy chapter eight.

* * *

I've actually managed to get over the fact that I just fell into a trashcan and am now bent over a sink in the girl's toilets getting gum removed from my hair.

Why you ask?

That would be because one Miss Spencer Carlin is currently running her long, smooth fingers through said hair in an attempt to remove the aforementioned chewing gum.

And God, does it feel good.

Her fingers are currently gently massaging my scalp and it's taking every single ounce of self-control I have not to moan.

I really don't want her to stop, but if she doesn't I don't know how long it will be before I lose it completely and she's up against a wall getting her brains fucked out.

Jesus Christ, that's a hot thought.

Christine!

That's better.

"Okay, I think that's all of it." Spencer's melodic voice says from above me and I have the strange urge to burst into tears as she removes her fingers from my hair.

"Er, thanks." I say as I straighten up.

Is it me or did it kind of just get awkward in here?

"No problem." Spencer replies kindly. "Are you sure you're okay. That looked like it hurt."

"I'm alright. Just a bruised ego I think." I reply, cringing slightly as the whole terrible ordeal comes back to me.

"I'll bet." Spencer giggles and if it had been anyone else laughing at me I would have smacked them. "Why were you running anyway?"

To stop Aiden from asking you out.

"Er, I just wanted to say good morning to Aiden." I lie.

"Well I'm glad you interrupted us." She tells me slowly, as though deliberating over whether or not she wants to tell me this.

"Why?" I ask her in confusion.

"Because I think he was about to ask me out and I hate having to reject people."

Err...What?

Is she saying that she would've said no?

What?

I don't know whether to jump around for joy or be slightly pissed at the fact that I just went bottoms up into a trashcan for nothing when instead I could have been watching Aiden get rejected. What a pisstake!

Wait a minute, why the fuck wouldn't she want to date Aiden? I happen to know what a tool he is but most of the girl's around here consider him to be the best catch out of the entire male population of this school. Why would she turn him down?

Spencer misconstrues the look of confusion on my face for a look of annoyance because she quickly starts to backtrack.

"Not that I don't like him or anything." She says quickly. "I mean he seems like a lovely guy and all but I just don't really want to date him. I'm sure he'd be a perfectly affable companion and that he would be a really great boyfriend to have and I'm sure..."

"Spencer!" I cut her off, slightly reluctantly because that babble was so freaking cute! "It's okay. I'm not annoyed that you don't want to date Aiden. In fact, I'm kind of relieved."

Oops. Probably shouldn't have said that because now she's giving me a curious look.

"Why?"

"Because Aiden's a dick." It's not a lie. It just doesn't happen to be the absolute truth.

Spencer just lets out a cute little chuckle and appraises me with an infamous head tilt making my stomach go all kinds of funky.

"Freaking giraffe." I mutter quietly.

"Did you just say something about a giraffe?"

Obviously I wasn't as quiet as I thought because now Spencer is raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow at me.

Why is it that everyone can raise one eyebrow except me?

"Er, no. I said something about...err, graphs! Yeah, graphs. I have Biology next and I was just thinking about how much I hate graphs."

Nice save Ash.

"Oh okay, yeah I know what you mean -."

Spencer gets cut off from our scintillating conversation about graphs as the bathroom door swings open and the lovely Madison Duarte struts in. Her eyes narrow suspiciously when she sees us.

"Spencer." She nods at the girl next to me. "What are you doing in here with _her_?"

I half expect Spencer to tell Madison that she just happened to wander in here and stumble across me because after all being spotted by the head cheerleader in the company of the school's most notorious lesbian in a deserted bathroom isn't going to do wonders for your reputation.

But then I remember that this is Spencer we're talking about. Cute, innocent, honest little Spencer. Therefore, what she does tell Madison is a lot worse than pretending not to know me.

"Ashley just needed some help getting chewing gum out of her hair."

Shit. Now Madison's grinning like someone just told her I randomly dropped dead.

"Really? Now why doesn't that surprise me?" She sneers and I really want to slap her. "What were you doing this time Davies? Rooting around in a trashcan like the tramp you are?"

Lucky guess. But I'll have her know that there was definitely no rooting involved, just a whole lot of skidding, falling and unnecessary pain.

"I'm the tramp now am I Madison?" I retort with a scathing scoff.

You see what I cleverly did there? I insinuated that she was a tramp without actually outright saying it. I know I'm incredibly smart; you don't have to tell me.

Madison's face has gone scarlet again, although, come to think of it she was kind of red in the face when she came in. Her blood pressure must be _really_ bad.

Just as Madison opens her mouth to bite out some lame attempt at a comeback the door once again swings open.

"You done in here?"

I recognise the deep English accent immediately and turn to face my best friend who's leaning up against the doorframe like she's trying to be sexy.

"Yep. Nearly done." I inform her and notice that her eyes momentarily widen in surprise as she looks between the three of us before an easy grin settles on her face and she begins to walk casually towards Spencer and I.

I roll my eyes when I notice that the buttons on her black shirt are done up wrong. That girl is seriously backward but at least she's ditched the trench coat.

"Oh look, its thing two." Madison's angry snarl nearly makes me jump.

And really? Cat in the Hat? Is that all you've got bitch?

"Madison darling!" Taylor exclaims, exuberantly as always. "What are you doing in here? Aren't you supposed to be in class Pumpkin?"

Haha, I love it when Taylor calls her Pumpkin. It makes her twice as angry as any of the other pet names she uses. Probably because she thinks Taylor's insulting her fat ass. If you ever told Madison outright that she had a fat ass you might as well kiss your life goodbye. I'd assume that her reaction wouldn't be dissimilar to telling a heavily pregnant woman she looks fat.

"Aren't you supposed to be in class too?" Madison replies weakly with what has to be the worst comeback I have had ever heard, even for Madison.

"You know me Maddie." Taylor winks at her and Madison gets even more flushed. "I was in the gym partaking in some rather enjoyable light exercise."

Now why doesn't that surprise me? Taylor is weirdly addicted to exercise. She goes jogging almost every morning and goes to the gym four times a week. She's like a female Aiden but less of a dick.

"Whatever." Madison shrugs, turns on her heel and flounces into one of the stalls.

What was that about?

The three of us exit the bathroom and begin to walk down the corridor.

"Hey Ash?" Taylor grabs my elbow. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Sure. I'll be right back." I tell Spencer as I let Taylor drag me a few feet away towards her locker.

"How's it going?" She asks as soon as we're out of earshot, opening her locker and pretending to look for something.

"How's what going?"

"Don't act dumb Ash." She reaches out to flick my forehead. "How's it going with Spencer?"

"Well apart from the fact that she saw me fall into a trashcan and then spent the next fifteen minutes getting gum out of my hair I'd say things are going pretty well." I reply, my tone sarcastic. "And get this, it was all for nothing."

"What was?"

"All of it. The plan, the codenames, the humiliation. She doesn't even want to date Aiden!" I tell her and am pleased to see her look as surprised as I was.

"What?" She exclaims, shutting her locker and leaning up against it. "There's a girl at this school apart from you and me that doesn't want to date Aiden Dennison?"

"Apparently so." I shrug, looking over her shoulder to where Spencer is waiting patiently.

"Funny that even after all the intense planning I did I still didn't think of that as even being a remotely possible variable." She ponders, bringing a hand to her chin and stroking it like she has a beard.

Hey wait...

"Excuse me?" I poke her hard in the stomach. "What do you mean all the planning _you_ did? What about all the planning I did?"

Taylor has the audacity to roll her eyes at me.

"Ashley, you didn't do any planning. You spent half the weekend sulking about me not letting you be the Barbie with the pink shirt. Then you spent a quarter of it getting the Barbie's to pretend to fuck each other and then the rest of it telling me my plan was shit."

I would object if every word she just said wasn't absolutely true.

"Exactly. Anyway, now I think it's time to put phase two into action." She tells me, a big grin on her face.

"What's phase two?"

"I haven't actual thought of a name for it yet. I was thinking operation Spenceley maybe? Or perhaps Operation Asher? I'm still working on it. But the first step is to find out if she's gay or not." Taylor explains.

"And how the fuck am I supposed to do that?" I hiss at her, accidentally spitting on her shirt. Oops. "I can't just go up to her and be like 'Hey Spence. By the way, do you happen to be a carpet muncher?'"

"Why not?" Ashley chuckles. "She didn't pussy out when it came to asking you if you were gay."

"That's so not even the same thing." I send her my best scowl. "Everyone knows I'm gay. She wasn't asking outright she was confirming what she already knew."

"Whatever pussy."

I know she's just trying to get a rise out of me and there is no way I'm going to give her the satisfaction...

"Ow!"

Yeah, I lied.

"That's what you get for calling me a pussy!"

"Jesus Ashley, I'm sorry okay?" Taylor clutches her stomach, which just received the full force of my razor sharp elbow.

"You better be."

I turn to look back at Spencer who is still waiting a little way away down the corridor, now looking slightly bored.

"Let's go." I grab Taylor's wrist and move to pull her back towards the stunning blonde but she stops me.

"I have an idea." She says quietly in my ear, causing me to turn back to face her. "Take her to the beach."

"What?"

"Take her to the beach." Taylor repeats. "Persuade her to skip with you today. Then not only will you get the chance to know her better, you might get some hints as to whether she or not she's gay."

Is she crazy?

"Are you crazy?"

"Maybe." Taylor chuckles. "But right now I think I'm making quite a lot of sense. You need to learn to chill out around her Ash otherwise you're just gonna make a complete arse out of yourself and she definitely won't date you. Maybe if you spend more time with her you won't shit yourself every time she smiles at you."

"I so do not – Ah, fuck it. Maybe you're right."

Taylor smiles triumphantly and I sock her hard in the arm.

"There's no need to gloat." I tell her as she faux pouts and rubs her arm. "But what if she doesn't want to go with me?"

"Then chances are she doesn't like you anyway." Taylor shrugs.

Ouch. That's not a nice thought at all.

"Sorry mate." Taylor shifts to wrap an arm around my shoulder and steers me towards Spencer. "But it's the truth."

"I know." I sigh, leaning into her slightly as we walk back down the corridor.

Just as we pass the bathroom door Madison stalks out, slamming right into Taylor and rebounding into the lockers.

I snort with laughter as she almost falls right on her fat ass.

"Are you okay?"

I send Taylor my best 'What the fuck?' look but she doesn't see it because she's currently reaching out a hand to help Madison up.

What the fuck? Since when did she start taking pity on the enemy?

Madison on the other hand looks less than impressed by this new revelation as she brushes away Taylor's hand and storms off down the corridor.

"What was that? Since when did you start caring about Madison's welfare?" I question suspiciously as soon as the Latina has disappeared from sight.

"I don't." Taylor shrugs. "Go on Ash. You'd better get back over there. It's rude to keep a girl waiting." She indicates towards Spencer who is looking at us with a thoughtful expression. I send her a small smile and feel a small jolt in the pit of my stomach when she returns it.

"Fancy coming with me?" I ask beginning to feel nervous about being back in the blonde's presence. "For some morale support?"

"I'd love to." Taylor smiles down at me, plants a kiss on the top of my head and gives me a one armed hug before nudging me forward and patting me on the butt. "But I've got something else I have to do."

With that she turns and strides away in the same direction as Madison. She turns back just before she rounds the corner, throwing me a trademark wink and grin combination.

"See you later babe!"

Ugh! What a bitch!

I wander back towards Spencer, slightly unsteadily because if I'm honest, I'm kind of bricking it right now.

"Sorry about that." I say as I come to stand beside her.

She doesn't answer straight away because she's too preoccupied with looking over my shoulder down the corridor to where Taylor just disappeared, a slight frown gracing her perfect features.

"Spencer?"

God, it feels so good to just say her name. It's one of those names that just roll right off your tongue.

"Sorry." She replies sweetly, shaking her head slightly. "What did you say?"

"I was just apologising for making you wait around like that." I repeat, meeting her eyes. Their brilliant ocean blue depths never fail to amaze me and make me totally horny.

Christine!

"That's okay." She smiles a cute half-smile at me.

Man, do I find everything she does cute? I could probably get turned on by sitting there and watching her cut her toenails. This is ridiculous.

"I should probably be getting back to class." She interrupts my thoughts of a naked Spencer seductively clipping her toenails. What? I swear it's hotter than it sounds. "It's almost the end of first period."

Okay Ashley, deep breaths. You can do this. She's just a girl. A normal, average teenage girl. You can do this.

"Actually, I was wondering..."

* * *

I know that could probably win an award for worlds shittest cliffhanger but I'm trying to get the word balance right and it's proving pretty difficult.

Thanks to my newest reviewers: hubuddy13, shaz89, vox80, kaelan, ConnieLaxer12, freakanatomy and Kelsey. And of course to everyone else who reviews. You guys are pretty damn awesome.


	9. Sand, Sun and Granola Muffins

I apologise for this taking so long. I've had assessments for the past two weeks so it's been kind of hard finding any time to just sit and chill out.

Okay, so first things first. A load of you smart people picked up on the Taylor/Madison subplot hints I dropped last chapter. Most of you seemed up for the idea of a thing between those two. But as I said before I haven't really decided what I'm doing and everything is flexible so I'm gonna let you decide. Review and tell me if you want Madison/Taylor or not. Majority rules. Thanks, it would be a big help because I'm on the fence with that one.

Don't know if I like this chapter as much as the others. It was definitely much more difficult to write but I think with all these assessments I've been doing recently I'm losing a lot of motivation. I hope you enjoy it regardless.

* * *

Oh. My. God.

Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.

Christine! Christine! Christine!

Ah fuck it! It's not working!

Damn you Taylor! You and your stupid fucking ideas. This is what happens when I listen to you! Take her to the beach you said, get to know her better you said, find out if she rides the rainbow train you said. Well you said nothing about holding a towel in front of Spencer Carlin while she's changing into my spare fucking bikini did you? No you fucking well did not!

Yep, I am officially freaking out. You would be too if you were holding the thin piece of material that separated you from a naked Spencer Carlin.

Oh God.

Naked. Spencer. Carlin.

I actually think I'm going to die. But at least I'll die happy and horny right?

I'm so caught up in trying to refrain from tearing away the towel and ravishing Spencer up against my car in front of all these people in the parking lot that I don't realise that Spencer is talking to me.

"Ash? Ashley?"

"Yeah?"

At least that's what I meant to say. It came out as more of a grunt. I never realised how difficult it was to speak and drool at the same time.

"I'm done. You can take the towel away now." She says sweetly.

Oh God. I'm not entirely sure I want to remove the towel. Just looking at the soft skin of her shoulders, which are visible over the top of the towel, is enough to seriously turn me on.

"Ashley?"

"Er, yeah, sure."

I slowly lower the towel, averting my eyes and deliberately focusing on the man I can see through the chain link fence sitting on the beach. He's bald, about twenty two stone and is currently stuffing a massive hotdog into what I think is his mouth. It's hard to tell. The guy has like twenty chins.

Ew. Okay. Now I'm feeling slightly less horny than I was before.

Holy shit!

I make the mistake of looking back at Spencer. She's standing next to my car wringing her hands together in a cute, self-conscious manner, clad in my spare all black bikini.

Oh. My. God.

Spencer in a bikini has to be by far the hottest thing I have ever seen. If I wasn't still taking in the scorching image in front of me I would have thought that my eyes had literally turned to liquid and dripped onto the floor. That's how hot she looks right now.

And the fact that it's _my_ bikini? Let's put it this way. Neither Christine nor Mr twenty chins can save me now. I'm way too far gone.

I probably should have seen this coming but I was completely blindsided by the idea of spending time with her. It didn't occur to me at the time that going to the beach would equal Spencer in two small pieces of material that barely cover her breasts and ass. How stupid am I?

"You okay Ashley?" Spencer asks me sweetly. "You're a little flushed."

No shit Spence. No shit.

"I'm good." I nod casually. "It's just hot out here."

"Tell me about it." Spencer replies as I grab a spare towel from the trunk where I keep my emergency beach kit and we begin to walk towards the sand. "It's so much warmer here than in Ohio."

"Do you miss it there?" I ask as our bare feet hit the warm sand.

"Sometimes." Spencer shrugs lightly as we find the perfect spot to lay our towels. "I miss my Grandma the most." Spencer's face lights up as she says this and I can't help but crack a smile at her obvious adoration for her grandmother. The girl is just too cute. "And my old friends. But I think I'm well on the way to making some even better ones."

She flashes me a grin and my stomach swoops. I'm starting to wonder if that's ever gonna stop happening.

I reply to her comment with an easy smile and sit down on my towel before laying back. I can feel Spencer doing the same next to me, my breath hitching when her elbow briefly bumps mine.

"Thanks for agreeing to come out with me today. I don't know what I would have done if I'd had to sit through double Math." I tell her, putting my unnecessarily large sunglasses on and closing my eyes.

"I'm sure you would have survived." Spencer says lightly and I'm almost certain she just rolled her eyes. "And just so you know, if my Mom finds out about this I'm totally blaming you."

"Deal."

It's not like it will do me much harm. The woman clearly hates me already.

"I didn't know you had it in you Carlin." I continued, gesturing around slightly. "I didn't take you for a rebel."

"There's a lot you don't know about me _Davies." _

Wow. I never knew how hot my last name could sound until this very moment.

I turn so that I'm lying on my side and pull my sunglasses down my nose so that I can survey her properly. She's wearing a slightly smug smile; I'd almost go as far as to call it coy.

"Like what?" I raise my eyebrows challengingly and can't stop my eyes as they decide take a detour down the length of her amazing body.

"What would you like to know?" She replies and now her smile is undeniably coy and my heart is beating unexplainably fast.

I push my sunglasses back onto my face and flip over onto my back, unable to stop the stupid grin that spreads across my lips.

"Everything."

* * *

"Okay...favourite animal?"

"Lame question Carlin."

"Shut up and answer it _Davies_."

"Fine. Unicorn."

"Er, Ash? That's not a real animal."

"Sssh! They might hear you."

Spencer and I are currently sitting in a quaint little diner in downtown L.A, drinking coffee, eating muffins and playing twenty questions.

I'm acting like a complete fool but it's totally worth it as Spencer lets out a giggle and holds her stomach. I feel a strange sense of accomplishment at making her laugh this much.

"I'm pretty sure that things that don't exist can't hear us Ash." She says with a small, adorable snort.

Yep. You better believe it. When it comes to Spencer Carlin, even snorting is cute.

"You won't be saying that when my unicorn friends attack you with their horns for bad mouthing them." I tell her in a matter of fact tone to which she merely rolls her eyes and takes another bite of her granola muffin.

I know right? Granola. If Spencer Carlin has one flaw, it comes in the shape of small, yeast-free, way too healthy to be normal cake.

And I take cake very seriously.

"I can't believe you eat that shit." I say for what is probably the millionth time in half an hour. Spencer sighs and rolls her eyes but the small smile tugging at the very corner of her lips tells me she's not really annoyed.

"Ashley, will you please stop abusing my muffin." She replies, clutching it to her like it's some kind of prized possession. Either that or she thinks I'm gonna steal it from her and start stamping on it at any minute. Which now that I think about it isn't a bad idea at all.

"That's not even a real muffin." I tell her, taking a huge, rather unladylike bite of my own blueberry one. "It's like a cereal bar pretending to be a muffin."

At least that's what it was meant to sound like. It actually ended up coming out more like 'Ef ike a cewal bar battening ta be a buffin'.

In hindsight, it probably wasn't a great idea to talk to the girl you like with a mouth full of muffin. I mentally store that away for future reference.

Spencer cocks her eyebrow and shakes her head at me but I know that she's secretly amused by my antics. She can't fool me.

I swallow my muffin without choking to death, which is no mean feat may I add, and continue my train of thought.

"And I hate it when things pretend to be something they're not."

I say this in a light tone, childishly glaring at the half eaten granola shit opposite me but for some reason the smile seems to drop from her face.

Shit. I didn't mean it. I love granola muffins really.

"Hey Ash?"

The anxious tone to her voice indicates that our muffin conversation is all but over.

"Yeah Spence?"

"How did you know you were gay?"

Whoa! Where the fuck did that come from? Way to blindside a girl.

Spencer notices the shocked expression on my face because really it's not hard to miss. My eyes are the size of plates and my jaw has gone so slack you could probably fit an African elephant in my mouth with room to spare for a couple of small zebras.

"Sorry." She begins to backtrack hurriedly. "I didn't mean to ask such a personal question, I mean, I was just curious, you don't have to -."

"It's okay." I finally manage to close my mouth and help the poor girl out. "You just took me by surprise is all."

"Sorry." She whispers almost inaudibly and I have to fight the urge to 'Aww' as she ducks her head, a small blush gracing her cheeks.

"Don't worry about it." I flash her an infamous Ashley Davies smile and am proud when her cheeks flush even further. Oh yeah baby, I've still got it.

I mull over her question for a minute because to be perfectly honest couldn't think of a specific time or moment when I realised I was gay. It just sort of happened gradually over time.

"I guess I just knew." I shrug, taking a small sip of my lukewarm coffee. "Although I guess the first time I noticed something was up was when my Barbie's started to find themselves in rather compromising positions."

I waggle my eyebrows suggestively at the blonde across from me and she snorts adorably into her sad excuse for a muffin.

"I remember when I used to play with Barbies." Spencer reminisces with a smile. "It's a shame I don't still have them. I donated them all to charity when I was about seven."

"Er, yeah, me too." I tell her quickly and search for a change of subject before she discovers what I spent the entire weekend doing. "Anyway, about the gay thing...I pretty much knew when I first kissed a girl. It was _so _much better than kissing a boy."

Spencer opens her mouth and I swear to god that she was about to say 'I know' but she quickly snaps it shut again.

"How did your family react?" She asks suddenly.

"My Dad was fine with it." I shrug. "My Mom hates me anyway so it didn't really make much of a difference."

Spencer looks at me sympathetically for a moment and I look away. If there's one thing I can't stand, its pity.

"What about Taylor's family? Were they okay with it?"

"I think so." I shrug again, because it's never been something Taylor and I have particularly discussed. "Although I remember her telling me that her Aunt was pissed because she had this whole elaborate plan for Taylor to marry her eldest son."

"But wouldn't that make him Taylor's cousin?" Spencer looks incredulous. And Spencer Carlin makes incredulousness look hot.

"Yeah, I suppose." I've obviously been hanging around with Taylor way too much because that's the third time I've shrugged in the space of two minutes. "British people are weird."

"Were you and Taylor ever...?" Spencer starts just as I finish my muffin, which I promptly begin to choke on.

"What?" I half-choke, half-laugh out. "Me and Tay? No way. Never."

"Not even a little?"

"Nope." I shake my head, briefly wondering why she's pushing this so much. "I mean we sort of considered it at the very beginning but we were never more than friends."

Spencer seems satisfied with that answer as she leans back in her chair and finishes her muffin in silence, a thoughtful expression adorning her pretty face.

"Why are you so interested anyway?" I can't help but question because normally straight girls aren't too keen to know all about my flaming homosexuality.

"Just curious." She replies a bit too quickly and there's something in her voice that tells me there's more to that statement than she's letting on.

I pass it off as my overactive imagination and we fall into a comfortable silence. That's another thing I love about hanging out with Spencer, she's not one of those girls that has to fill every possible moment with pointless conversation.

A little while later, I signal for the waitress to bring the bill and after a two minute argument over who was paying, which I won, we're clambering back into my Porsche.

I once again notice Spencer glancing around appreciatively at the Italian leather interior and grin at her.

"You like my baby?"

And that didn't sound at all stupid.

"Yeah. How can you afford a car like this?"

Damn it. I'd amazingly managed to avoid bringing up the fact that I'm shit rich all day. Normally when I'm trying to get a girl to have sex with me my opening sentence goes something like this 'Hey, I'm Ashley. I'm a millionaire. Wanna fuck? Did I mention that I'm a millionaire?' but with Spencer I get the impression that money is more likely to intimidate than impress her.

And soon enough I'll be getting a shitload more money because at the moment I'm living off my trust fund. My actual inheritance doesn't kick in until I'm eighteen.

"Er, I have quite a lot of money." I tell her lamely. "My Dad was a millionaire."

"Was?"

Shit. That was also something I'd managed to avoid telling her. I had stealthily asked strategic questions about her family to keep her distracted so that she wouldn't ask about mine.

"He died about a year and a half ago. In a car accident." I decide to tell her because she's gonna find out sooner or later anyway.

"That sucks."

I send her a small smile because I'm glad she didn't say 'I'm sorry'. I know it's the natural response and all but I hate it when people apologise for things that are completely out of their control. I got so tired of hearing people say that phrase to me over and over again when most of them didn't even know my Dad at all.

We sit in comfortable silence for the rest of the journey back to Spencer's house, exchanging the odd glance now and then that makes my stomach clench and my palms sweat.

I think that blueberry muffin must be repeating on me or something.

"Told you that you should have gone with the granola." Spencer giggles.

What?

Oh shit. I said that out loud didn't I? For fucks sake Ashley! Stop doing that!

I stick my tongue out at her laughing form as we pull up against the kerb. As we exit the car I see Taylor and who I think is one of Spencer's brothers on the Carlin's driveway playing basketball.

"Hey guys!" Taylor grins dopily at us from under her backwards baseball cap and I snort at her appearance. She's dressed in fluorescent yellow basketball shorts, a pair of black and red high tops and a green Celtics jersey that clashes horribly with the aforementioned shorts.

"What's up Tay?" I glare at her as she points between me and Spencer and gives me a not so subtle thumbs up.

"Just schooling Glen here on how to play ball." She replies, still wearing that stupid smirk as she looks between Spencer and I.

"Whatever." Glen throws the ball at her and she catches it deftly before turning back to us.

"Come on Ash." She cocks her head to the left. "Come back to mine and I'll make you some dinner. You can tell me all about your day."

"Sure." I turn to say goodbye to Spencer who's standing quietly beside me. "I had a really good time today."

I really mean it too. Spencer's not just a pretty face; she's also just so happens to be excellent company. Once I got over my partially brain dead state of seeing her in a bikini that is.

"Me too." Spencer replies sincerely and we stand there awkwardly for a moment.

"We should skip again some time." I tell her because I can't think of much else to say.

"I don't know about that." She smiles. "I think that's enough rebellion for at least a year for me."

"Oh yeah, I forgot that you were a little goodie two-shoes." I tease her and she hits me lightly on the arm.

"I am not." She protests with a pout that I will admit makes my knees a little weak. "I'm just not a complete rebel like you."

I really shouldn't be proud of that fact but I totally am.

"But maybe we could hang out this weekend?"

"Yeah?" I grin stupidly at her suggestion and she nods her head. "Okay then. I'll call you."

And for once in my life I'm not lying. Because unlike the last hundred girls I said that exact same phrase to I know for a fact that I will be calling Spencer.

"Cool."

We both stand there slightly awkwardly before Spencer surprises me by leaning in and wrapping her arms around my waist in a warm hug.

Fuck. A. Monkey.

Spencer Carlin is hugging me!

I quickly wrap my arms around her back, savouring the feel of her body pressed up against me.

I'm hugging Spencer Carlin!

After holding on for as long as I possibly could without bordering on the seriously inappropriate I reluctantly let go, unable to contain the huge smile from spreading across my face, nose crinkle and all.

Out of the corner of my eye I can see Taylor and Glen saying goodbye. And by goodbye I mean a weird fist-bump, man-hug combo that they think looks cool.

"I'll probably see you sometime this weekend then." I tell Spencer as I turn to follow Taylor towards her house my legs slightly jellified by the fact that I just got to touch Spencer for a prolonged period of time.

God, I'm such a pussy.

Is it sad that I desperately want to do some kind of happy dance right now?

I follow Taylor into her house and close the door behind me. When I look up, Taylor is standing opposite me with a huge smirk on her slightly sweaty face.

"Let's see it then." Is all she says, her smirk now almost reaching from ear to ear.

"What?" I ask, because once again I have absolutely no idea what she's talking about.

"Just do the damn happy dance Ash."

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Shout-out to newest reviewers: Spikkels8, Son of Sam, , cutieflip27, Queenred12 and thismustbetheplace. Thanks a million.

And ages ago I think someone asked me if I play call of duty. The answer to that is yes, yes I do. After all, what kind of Xbox owner doesn't play COD? That would just be a crime against nature.


	10. Party Time

My profuse apologies for being utterly lazy and taking so long to update. This happens to me sometimes. I'll have a creative lull if you will and just don't feel like doing anything.

Anyway. I'm back. I'm out of the funk and I'm ready to start writing again.

I hope you all had a good christmas and New Year. Mine was slightly shite due to the fact that I broke up with my girlfriend of over two years a couple of weeks ago. But I won't go on about it. I've decided my New Year's resolution is to give up women because I hate them. I hate them all and would be happy if I never had to speak to one again (no offense). It's just a shame that I have five sisters...

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

* * *

It's mocking me.

I'm sitting on my bed staring at it and I can almost hear it's derisive laughter at my pathetic cowardice.

You can laugh all you want but I will conquer you in the end. I'm just biding my time is all.

Everyone knows Ashley Davies is the queen of strategy.

I'm not kidding anyone am I?

Okay, so here's the thing. I promised Spencer I'd call her sometime this week so that we could hang out this weekend but I haven't exactly gotten round to it.

And by that I mean that every time I pick up my cell phone to call her I almost shit a brick.

Problem is, it's Friday night and if I don't call her tonight she's going to think I don't like her and don't want to hang out with her and that's not the case at all. See my dilemma here?

I've also been anxious to make direct contact with her this week so have resorted to running, and by running I mean walking at a high speed, in the opposite direction whenever I catch sight of her around school. Unfortunately, I have not been blessed with the stealth that Taylor seems to possess so when I tried to duck surreptitiously into the girls' bathroom today I ended up walking face first into set of lockers.

Picking up the mirror on my bedside table I carefully inspect the impressive bruise that's formed just above my left eyebrow.

Glancing back at my phone I decide that it is now or never, leaping gracefully (read: clumsily.) from my position on the bed and all but sprinting (read: walking.) towards the cell phone that I have just spent the last forty-two minutes and fifty-three seconds staring aimlessly at.

When I reach my desk I swipe up my cell as quickly as physically possible because everyone knows that things are less painful when done at pace.

It's a shame that it's not true.

I'm feeling even more pained now that I have my phone in my hand and raise a shaking thumb to press the button that will lead to my contact list.

Just a I'm about to push it I'm interrupted as my door swings open and hits the opposite wall with a loud bang, Taylor strolling though it as though she owns the place.

She then proceeds to collapse onto my neatly made bed, which is when I also happen to notice that she's all sweaty and gross. No doubt having just partaken in some kind of exercise.

My day just gets better and better.

And how did she even get in here?

"How did you get in here?"

"Kyla let me in." Is her simple reply, of course accompanied by the infamous shrug even though she's currently horizontal.

"Do you think you could ask Kyla to let you out?" I ask in a particularly snippy manner.

"What crawled up your arse and died?" She turns to look at me, cocking the customary eyebrow.

Her squinted hazel eyes flicker from the phone clutched in my white-knuckled hand to my pale face and then to my slightly panic-crazed eyes, which are unsuccessfully attempting to send her a death glare.

"Finally calling Spencer are we?"

"No."

That was about as convincing as a cat shaving off all it's fur and pretending to be a giant naked molerat.

"Invite her to Jake Slater's party." Taylor suggests not even rewarding my pathetic denial with an eye roll.

"Jake Slater's a dick."

"I know." Taylor shrugs. "But Spencer's the new kid. It'll be nice for her to go to a big party, meet people, socialise and the like. And if you're lucky you might even get a dance out of it."

My mind drifts off to its happy place where Spencer and I are bumping and grinding on the dance floor and I'm pretty much sold.

"Ugh, fine!" I pretend to still be reluctant. "But don't think you can fool me. The only reason you want to go is because you want to fuck that redhead sister of his. I thought she got a restraining order on you?"

"Nah. It was only a threat." Taylor grins stupidly. "I know she wants me."

Normally when someone slaps you three times, gets someone to physically remove you from their house twice and threatens to get a restraining order on you, you realise that they might not be into you. Unfortunately, Taylor is not a normal person.

"Whatever you say Tay." I shake my head in slight exasperation as she hauls herself off of my bed and towards the door.

"Where are you going?" I ask as she reaches the doorway.

Now that she's here she could at least have the decency to make herself useful and give me some good advice on exactly what I'm supposed to say to Spencer.

She turns back with another one of those cocky grins.

"I'm going to ask Kyla to let me out."

With that smartassed comment she disappears from view and I can hear her abnormally large feet thundering down the stairs at high speed.

Taking a deep breath to compose myself I turn back to the device in my hand, closing my eyes as I press the contacts list button.

Jesus Christ Ashley! You're acting like you're about to make a decision about whether to cut the red or the blue wire on an armed bomb. Get a grip already!

I quickly scroll down the list until I find her name and let out a small chuckle when I notice that she's put one of those little smiley face things next to it. Such a Spencer Carlin thing to do.

Biting the bullet, I press the call button and wait as it starts to ring. I'd bet my Dad's guitar that she's the kind of girl who picks up after like two rings.

Ring. Ring.

"Hello?"

Told you.

"Hello?"

Oh shit. Say something Davies. Something smart.

"Hello."

Good start Ash. Now push through.

"I mean, hey, it's Ashley. Ashley Davies."

"Hey Ashley."

Is it me or did her voice just brighten considerably when she knew it was me calling her?

Nah. Wishful thinking as usual.

Okay. This is it. Play it cool Ashley, play it cool.

"So Spencer," I yawn for added casual affect. "I was wondering…"

* * *

I pull up outside of Taylor's house to find her already outside on the drive, her large form hidden behind the huge hood of the truck her Dad bought her last year.

She looks around when she hears me pull up and wipes her oil-blackened hands on a cloth before approaching the car.

I roll my eyes at her attire. As usual she looks like she's raped Shane Mccutcheon's wardrobe. I'm talking the whole black jeans, t-shirt and blazer combo. At least she isn't wearing a tie this time.

"You aren't coming anywhere near my car with those hands." I warn her as I dismount.

"My brake fluid's leaking." She tells me in a voice not dissimilar to one you would use when telling someone a close relative had died.

"Oh dear." I reply, patting her on the back in mock comfort as she glares at me. "Now go and wash your hands." I notice that there's also a big black smudge across her chin and add: "And your face."

Taylor huffs petulantly and flounces off to do as she's told.

"Go and get Spencer then." I hear her voice call back to me and I glance apprehensively over at Spencer's house, which has never looked so big and scary.

Shaking my head at my utter idiocy I march my way down Taylor's drive and straight up Spencer's before ringing the doorbell.

Oh shit. Why did I do that? I don't even know what to say. Oh my god. What if Paula opens the door?

Luckily, someone up there does seem to love me because when the door opens I'm met with the kind eyes of Arthur Carlin rather than the cold, harsh ones of the she-devil herself.

"Hello Ashley." He greets me and I'm pleased that he remembers my name.

But then why wouldn't he? I am after all _the_ Ashley Davies.

"Hi Mr. Carlin." I smile at my second favourite Carlin.

"Spencer will be down in a minute."

"Thanks."

The silence isn't exactly what I'd call a comfortable one so I'm extremely relieved when I hear Spencer coming down the stairs.

Fuck. A. Monkey.

She looks hot.

Like really, really hot.

I study her closely from the feet upwards. She's wearing these cute little gladiator sandals that show off her cute little toes that are painted a shiny, metallic blue. My eyes then travel up her long legs to the hem of her short denim skirt and all the way up to where they linger longer than necessary on the cleavage that's peaking out of the top of her blue v-neck sweater.

When I finally make it to her eyes she's smiling at me and I briefly bring a hand up to my face to wipe away the drool that I'm sure must be present.

"Hey." She says sweetly, grabbing her jacket from the hook by the door. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah."

That 'yeah' by the way sounded more like 'Luh' because my tongue has chosen this moment to become the texture of carpet.

"Have fun girls!" Mr. Carlin calls after us as we make our way down the path towards the car, me stumbling along in Spencer's angelic wake.

When we reach the Cayenne a dirt free Taylor is moseying her way down her own path but stops dead when she sees us.

"Whoa!" She lets out a wolf whistle. "Spencer Carlin is that you? You look hot!"

Spencer blushes at Taylor's highly inappropriate bluntness as I glare at my douche of a best friend who's still running her eyes up and down Spencer's body.

"Er, thanks Taylor. You look nice too." Spencer stammers out.

"I try." Taylor smirks and does that stupid 'brush fake dirt off the shoulder' thing that no one's done since 2007. "Well, we better get going. Don't want to be too late otherwise all the good drink's gone."

She then proceeds to grab the door handle to the front passenger seat and attempts to clamber in. I say attempts because as she does so I grab her arm and yank her back.

"What do you think you're doing?" I hiss into her ear as Spencer stands on the sidewalk looking slightly puzzled.

"Er. Getting in the car?"

"Get. In. The. Back." I whisper as harshly as I can.

Taylor looks at me and then at Spencer.

"Oh. Okay." She steps back from the door and makes an over dramatic sweeping motion with her arm. "After you milady." She says to Spencer who smiles and climbs into the passenger seat.

Sticking out her tongue at me Taylor jumps in the back as I roll my eyes and clamber into the front starting up my car.

As I peel away from the kerb Taylor rests her head on the armrest between the two front seats, grinning impishly.

"It's party time."

* * *

Jake Slater's house is almost as big as my own and when we walk in the place is bursting to the gunnels with illegally drunk high school kids jumping on furniture, lobbing around breakable ornaments and throwing up all over the place.

This is my kind of party.

"See you later Ash." Taylor slaps me on the shoulder. "I'm gonna go and bag me a piece of hot redhead." She calls before being swallowed by the mass of moving, sweaty bodies.

I'll bet you my left (and slightly smaller) boob that the next time I see her she'll have a shiny red handprint on her face.

"You okay?" I turn to Spencer who's still standing in the doorway looking slightly daunted.

"Yeah." She has to shout over the deafening music. "We didn't have parties like this in Ohio."

I lean in close to her ear knowing that she won't be able to hear me if I don't.

"Welcome to L.A." I flash her a customary Ashley Davies grin before grabbing her hand and pulling her towards where I remember the kitchen to be located.

My hand is tingling like crazy as we reach the kitchen, which seems to be the meeting place for the horny teenagers club.

"Would you like a drink?" I ask her, reaching between a couple that are all but fucking each other to grab myself a beer.

"I'll have whatever you're having."

I manage to swipe another one, cringing, as my hand brushes against something I pray to god isn't what I think it is.

I pull the caps off of the beers and hand Spencer hers. You'll be surprised to know that I am quite the gentlewoman.

"Thanks." She smiles at me and we fall into a semi-awkward silence.

Why is it semi-awkward you ask? Maybe because we're standing in the middle of a room full of dry humping teenagers and not bothering to say anything to each other.

"Ashley!" I'm pleased when Taylor stumbles into the room a few minutes later, grabs a beer from the island and literally pours it down her throat.

I let out a chuckle when I notice that there's a shiny purple mark on her right cheek and my left boob sags in relief.

"Didn't go well huh?" I shout in her ear as she joins us.

"Nope." Taylor shakes her head. "First she slaps me and then she sets her bloody bugger of a boyfriend on me who threatened to throw me bodily from the building."

"Why didn't he?"

"Because I threatened to rip his right bollock off if he so much as laid a finger on me." Taylor smiles happily.

"Good for you." I roll my eyes and share a look with Spencer who from the looks of it, doesn't know whether to be scared or amused.

"Anyway, I'll leave you ladies to it." She finished off her beer and sets it down on the countertop with a loud bang. "I'm gonna go and dance with a hot redhead who does want to shag me."

"You can't dance." I remind her.

"I know." She shrugs. "But I can stand there and look hot while a girl grinds on my leg."

With a grin and a wink she departs back into the living room.

"Er…so…"

I question my intelligence sometimes, I really do.

"Do you want to dance?"

Nope. It wasn't me who worked up the balls to say it. However much I wish it were. It was Spencer. Sweet, innocent, angelic Spencer has way more nerve that badass Ashley Davies. How sad is that?

If I wasn't so happy that she just asked me to dance I'd cry.

"Sure."

I take her hand again and lead her into the crowd, the thunderous music vibrating in my chest as we begin to move together.

She's a good dancer. But then again, I didn't expect any less from a cheerleader. We dance about a foot apart at first but as both of us start to get into it I find my hands have a mind of their own as they come to rest on her slim waist.

Her eyes meet mine and she reaches up to wrap her arms securely around my neck bringing our bodies firmly together so that I can feel every inch of her pressed up against me as we continue to grind to the music.

Her eyes are smouldering into mine and it's either a trick of the light or her previously bright blue eyes have darkened to an almost navy colour. Her mouth is half open and due to our close proximity I can feel her heavy breaths against my cheek, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end and a tremor to run the length of my spine.

My eyes flicker briefly away from hers and down to her parted lips that look so shiny and inviting. I return to her eyes the exact same moment that she looks back up and my lips tilt up into a reassuring smile.

She smiles back and begins to lean in, with me automatically doing the same. Our faces are about an inch apart and my heart starts to pound in my chest in anticipation. I'm just about to close the gap when…

Oof!

Something crashes into me from behind and I feel something wet splash over me and for one absurd moment I think I've pissed myself.

Then I turn around and see that a small space has been made on the dance floor and a familiar looking girl is picking herself up from the floor, an empty glass clutched in her hand.

"You fucking idiot!" She yells at a random guy standing nearby. "You fucking tripped me!"

I turn away from the argument to see that Spencer has taken a massive step away from me and is standing there with a look of sheer panic on her face.

Uh oh. She's freaking out.

"Spencer…"

"I-I'm just g-gonna go." Spencer stammers out and before I can say anything else she's turns on her gladiator sandal clad heels and disappears into the giant moving monster that is the King High student body.

Fuck!

This is so not how I wanted my evening to go.

Someone is going to pay for this.

"Excuse me?" I turn back to the girl who just fucked up my night with her idiotic clumsiness my anger increasing as I begin to become more aware of the sticky substance that is now causing my shirt to cling horribly to my skin.

She ignores me completely and carries on smacking the poor boy that apparently tripped her in the chest.

"Excuse me?" I grab her shoulder and force her to face me.

"What?" She asks me in an annoyed tone wiping her shoulder as though I've contaminated it.

That's it. This bitch is gonna get it right in the jugular.

"You just spilt your drink all over me that's what, bitch." I half shout half growl at her. "And haven't even had the decency to apologise!"

"So?" She squares up to me, jutting her chin out arrogantly and getting all up in my grill.

"So?" I repeat, trying to remember where I've seen her scrawny ass before. "So I'd like an apology."

I make the slightly reckless decision of shoving her away from me a little bit and she blows a fuse.

Next thing I know she's all over me, pushing, pulling and pinching. Luckily, I know how to fight dirty and grab a handful of her hair and pull hard. She let's out a satisfying scream of pain and slaps me hard across the face.

Ouch. That hurt.

That's it. This bitch is going down.

I use my other hand to grab another hank of hair and pull it as hard as I can, feeling some of it rip away from the scalp as I kick her in the ankle. It's just a shame I didn't wear those steel-toed boots I have. Those could have caused some serious damage

I can vaguely hear the chants of 'Fight! Fight!' from around us before I feel a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist and pull me away.

I reach out to shove Taylor away from me but find myself laying me hands on a much larger, firmer body as I look up and see Aiden looking at me in concern.

"You okay Ash?" He leans down to ask into my ear.

I push past him, shaking bits of long dark hair off of my hands before shoving through the tonne of bodies that are standing in a large circle around me and the unidentified bitch as though watching some kind of bull fight.

I slam the front door behind me as I storm out of the house towards my car.

So let's see, Spencer and I almost kissed, she freaked and now she probably hates me. I got into some random fight with some stupid whore who probably isn't worth my time and did I mention that Spencer probably hates me?

Worst. Party. Ever.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Thank you to newest reviewers: Goose, danicullenkhoo, kahlelatara, BlackisnotEMO, CRaVeMe1991, GLEEGIRL2, 2012, IxHeartxGlee, KITTYCAT, Pyrobee xoxo, PMS, elle112u, and Charly.

Next update shouldn't take as long as my last one. Scout's honour.


	11. ABS

My apologies for taking so long. Again. But you'll be pleased to know I've written the next three chapters or so and the ball is once again rolling.

Thanks to a particularly pushy person (you know who you are) who went as far as threats to my mortal soul in order to get me to finally update. Threats that kind of scared me by the way.

Anyway, this chapter's a bit filler but things heat up in the next. Hope you enjoy it regardless.

* * *

Ouch.

Have you ever woken up wondering why there's a ten tonne elephant sitting on your head?

And then you realise that it's because you're a complete and utter fucking moron?

I groan as the slightly blurred memories of the night before come rushing back. Memories of the party. Dancing with Spencer. Almost kissing Spencer. Tearing some random girl's hair out and of course, returning home to raid my mother's liquor cabinet.

I crack my left eye open just a notch, flinching at the sunlight streaming into the room.

Blackout blind my ass.

I settle my gaze on the empty bottle of Jack Daniels sitting innocently on my bedside table and throw it a one-eyed glare. I knew there was a reason why I hate men.

As I'm contemplating whether or not I should ever leave the confines of my bed I hear a familiar chuckle from nearby and the sound of someone shuffling around before my bed dips slightly as it's sat on.

"For a minute there, I thought you were dead." The currently bodiless but easily distinguishable English accent sounds amused.

"Fuck off Taylor." I groan.

Unfortunately, that sounded more like 'Ugh, ugh, ughhhh' because my face is smushed into my pillow.

"I have no idea what you said but I'm going to hazard a guess that it was rude and that I resent it." Taylor has the audacity to laugh, as though she finds my pain and misery hilarious.

I turn my head to the side; my eyes still clamped shut so that the next thing I say is audible.

"Fuck the fuck off!" My voice is extra husky and my throat is sore, no doubt from the sheer volume of whisky I downed last night.

"That's a nice way to greet your best friend." The bed dips further as Taylor lies down beside me. "A best friend who spent a good portion of last night cleaning your vomit off of the kitchen floor may I add."

What?

I just about manage to muster the impetus to roll over to face her, cracking open one eye. She's lying about a metre away from me, a cheeky grin on her face, her mischievous hazel eyes sparkling in the morning sunlight and just for a moment I want to inflict grievous bodily harm upon her.

That's until I remember that she's a lot bigger than me. That and the fact that right now I don't even think I can stand up.

"I hate you."

Her grin only widens until I can see her annoyingly straight, pearly white teeth.

"I love you too."

I groan in disgust and roll over again so that I can rest my pounding temple against her bare shoulder.

"You're sweaty." I comment because my mind is so discombobulated right now that's the only thing I can think to say.

"I've just been for a jog." She tells me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me further into her side. "You gonna tell me what happened last night?"

"Nope."

"You're not gonna tell me why I came here to check up on you to find Kyla holding your hair back as you threw up on your Mum's favourite pot plant."

"I threw up in Christine's pot plant?"

"Yep."

"Excellent."

"Are you going to tell me why Carmen Sanchez now has a bald patch? I've never liked the girl but she's a good footballer and now I have to deal with the fact that my best friend happened to rip a huge chunk of her hair out." Taylor attempts to sound irritated but fails miserably.

So that's who that bitch was. Never liked her. She always thought that she was a better lesbian than me when everyone knows that I'm the top ladylover at King High. In fact I bet I'm the best lesbian in the entire world.

Wait…

"Bald patch? Really?"

"According to Aiden."

"Excellent."

I can almost hear Taylor rolling her eyes beside me and a minute later she shifts so that she is propped up on her elbow, looking down at me, a worryingly serious expression on her face.

"Okay then. If you don't want to tell me that then can you please tell me why a hysterical Spencer cut my party time short? She was so bloody upsert, the only words I could get out of her were 'Ashley' and 'no'. What the hell did you do to her?"

I look away, unable to take the pressure of her accusing stare, and bury my head in her neck.

Sometimes I really hate myself.

"I'm an idiot."

"What?" Taylor can't hear me because I've squashed my face impossibly far into her neck.

"I'm an idiot!" I exclaim loudly, immediately regretting it as my ears start to ring.

"I know you are. Now please fill me in. You owe me Ash. She fucking_ cried_ and you know how much I hate crying chicks."

It's true you know. The last time I cried in Taylor's vicinity she moved away from me so fast she tripped over her own feet and gave herself a black eye.

As funny as it was at the time, I'm struggling to find the funny in anything at the moment. Not to sound dramatic or anything, but my life is over.

"I tried to kiss Spencer."

I wince. It sounds really bad out loud.

"That's why she was crying?" Taylor sits up straight, so that I fall unceremoniously back onto the mattress. "I thought you were a good kisser?"

"I am. Not that you would know." I bite back. "I didn't actually get to kiss her you asshat! That's the point! She ran off!"

Taylor lies back down, letting out a long whistle and putting her arms behind her head.

"Wow. That's rough." She says with an ounce of sympathy. "I really thought she was into you."

"I know right? Talk about mixed signals." I reply miserably. "She agreed to skip school with me, she danced dirty with me and everything! I don't know, maybe I was reading it all wrong. She's probably so straight that she screams when she sees her own vagina."

Taylor snorts and against all odds I feel a little smile tugging at the corners of my lips. Before I know what's happening we're both in fits of laughter, rolling around on the bed.

It doesn't last for long though as my pounding head and weak stomach combine to bring my laughter to an abrupt end. Letting out another groan of self-pity at how shit I feel I nestle myself back against Taylor who resumes her earlier position with an arm curled around my waist.

"I'm sorry girl." She tells me sincerely, leaning down to press a light kiss on my head before thinking better of it when she catches a strong whiff of whisky that seems to have begun to ooze from every pore in my body. "I really thought she liked you too. I thought you had a real shot. You never know, you might still have one. She did sit with you for over an hour when I went for my jog."

Upon hearing this revelation, I jerk up, staring at my best friend as though she has two heads. Why the fuck didn't she mention this earlier?

"What is it?" She looks worried, seemingly unaware of the importance of her last sentence. "Are you gonna hurl again? Please don't. This is my favourite T-shirt."

I stare at her in disbelief.

"Spencer was here?"

"Sure." She shrugs. "She knocked on the door this morning and asked to speak to you. I told her you were up here so she came up and sat with you while I went for my jog."

"You did what?" I breathe out slowly, gaining satisfaction from the fear rising in her eyes.

"Look Ash, I'm sorry but I'd been sitting on my arse watching you breathe for almost three hours and I was getting antsy. So when Spencer came round…"

"You let her come up to watch me snore and drool too?" I raise my eyebrows at her threateningly.

"I couldn't just leave you alone! My Dad's told me stories about the drunks who choke on their own puke." Taylor has the impudence to defend herself. "I was getting exercise withdrawal and Kyla had already left for yoga class. What did you want me to do?"

"Let me choke on my own fucking puke!" I yell, slapping her over the head.

"Okay! Jeez!" Taylor rubs at her head with a wounded frown. "I get it. Next time I'll let you die."

"Thank you." I settle back against the covers and put my hands over my eyes. "Oh god, I can't believe she saw me like this. Now I'll never have a shot."

"You didn't look that bad." Taylor reassures me. "Kyla managed to get all of the sick out of your hair and the soil off of your face."

"Soil?"

"From the pot plant."

Of course. This just gets better and better.

"You never know Ash, you do look quite angelic when you sleep." Taylor pointedly ignores my glare and lays back down beside me. "And the fact that she came over to speak to you in the first place is a good thing right?"

That's true. At least she's not avoiding me like I'm some walking infestation of flesh-eating locusts.

"Maybe." I sigh and resume resting my head on Taylor's warm shoulder.

"Maybe she's just scared?" She suggests after a moments silence. "You know what her Mum's like."

"Yeah. She's a total bitch."

"Exactly. She's probably terrified of what Paula would say if she found out that she was even hanging out with you at all."

Dear Paula Carlin.

I hate you.

A lot.

Love from Ashley.

"Just next time you try and kiss her?" Taylor arches an eyebrow at me. "Choose a better moment."

She laughs as I smack her hard on the arm.

"What?" I feel her shoulder shrug beneath my head. "Dragging a hysterical blonde home was not the way I wanted to spend my night. I was on the verge of getting lucky."

"Taylor, how many time's do I have to tell you. Lauren Slater will not, under any circumstances, fuck you." I roll my eyes at her persistence.

"I wasn't talking about Lauren." Taylor nudges me playfully. "Although, she totally wants me."

"Then who are you talking about?"

"Just some girl I picked up last night." Taylor shrugs nonchalantly but there's something a little off about her tone.

Inspecting her facial expression more closely I don't notice anything out of the ordinary and shrug it off.

"At least you were on your way to getting lucky." I tell her morosely. "I can't even kiss a girl without her running in the opposite direction."

Taylor pats my head lightly and pulls me further into her, this time braving the kiss to my head.

"At least she didn't slap you."

"True dat." I agree. "Although it might have been kind of hot."

"I personally prefer a slapper over a crier." Taylor nods wisely. "Speaking of slappers. Do you think I could get Lauren Slater to come to my eighteenth next week?"

"No. I don't."

"Bollocks"

If I'm honest there probably aren't many people who would want to come to an 18th birthday bash that consists of going to Chuck E. Cheese and eating pizza until someone throws up, playing/watching an Xbox marathon and setting random shit on fire after consuming a couple of cases of beer each.

Yeah, Taylor's party last year was an absolute blast. I heard that the garden bench didn't have such a good night though.

Just as I'm about to remind her of this fact, the door creaks open and Spencer walks in, a steely look planted firmly on her gorgeous face.

The expression slips clean off as soon as she looks over at the bed and it takes me a moment to realise why.

I'm still snuggled up tightly in Taylor's arms and she's all sweaty.

Shit!

I roll away from Taylor as fast as I can and quickly sit up, ignoring my pounding headache.

She's still standing in the doorway, staring at me through red-rimmed eyes. It looks a hell of a lot like she's been crying for a while and the thought that I might have caused her tears breaks my heart.

"Spencer…" I croak out because my tongue has suddenly turned to carpet.

Unfortunately, the sound of my voice seems to jog her from her frozen state and she whips around, dashing from the room before I can say anything else. Not that I even had anything else to say.

I stare after her for a minute before a strong hand shoves me from the bed.

"What are you doing?" Taylor asks me incredulously. "Go after her!"

Oh. Right.

Just as I'm about to make a mad dash for the door Taylor grabs my wrist.

"Wait!" She pulls me back and shoves me in the direction of the en suite. "Brush your teeth first and put on some deodorant. You smell like a tramps arse."

"By the time I do that she'll have left." I'm torn between the door and the bathroom.

"I'll stall her." Taylor decides for me, nudging me further towards the bathroom as she rushes from the room, thundering down the stairs after Spencer.

After hurriedly brushing my teeth, accidentally swallowing the mouthwash that has a big yellow warning sign saying 'Do not swallow' and spraying deodorant in my eye I eventually make it downstairs.

The sight that greets me would have been funny under any other circumstances. But as it is, it's not funny at all.

Taylor is standing in the doorway with her arms spread out, blocking any possible forms of exit as a furious Spencer repeatedly tries to push her away. I guess she really doesn't want to talk to me.

Taylor looks like she's about to piss herself with fear as Spencer takes a run up and slams into her again but she absorbs the impact, barely moving an inch as Spencer almost falls over from her own momentum.

"Move!"

"No."

"Move!"

"I can't! Spencer, seriously, just hear her out!" Taylor attempts to placate the fuming blonde and almost gets head butted for her efforts. Damn, I never knew that Spencer Carlin was this feisty. I have to say, I'm kind of impressed.

"Spencer…" I finally make my presence known, edging further into the hallway.

Taylor's shoulder sag with relief but she stays where she is until I can move to take her place.

"I'm just gonna go…somewhere." She says slowly and I know that it's her way of telling me to holler if things get nasty. Which they might because clearly Spencer has no qualms about using physical violence to settle a disagreement.

I don't even really know why she's so angry. I didn't even do anything to her. Not that I wouldn't have liked to. There are definitely a couple of things that I would…

Focus Ashley! We have an ABS (angry blonde situation) here. Now is not the time.

I pull myself forcibly from my own imagination and turn to look at the girl who's thrown my already overly dramatic life into yet another tailspin and my breath catches in my throat.

She's just standing there, staring at me, her big blue eyes wide and shining with confusion and an undercurrent of something else I can't quite read.

She looks stunning. Breathtakingly stunning and I just want to kiss her. I almost do until I remember that that's what got me into this mess in the first place. I'm glad to see that the ABS has seemingly defused itself on it's own because I have no idea how to calm down a woman.

Now I just have to think of something to say to end this awkward and slightly creepy silence.

"I like you."

That wasn't me.

* * *

Thanks for reading.

I've got a hot coffee date in fifteen minutes so don't have time to do newest reviewers shout-outs right now. I hope you understand and I'll double up next chapter. Thanks.


	12. Watershed

My apologies. Again. Computer died. Again. But from now on I'm emailing all of my documents to myself so that they're safe because apparently nothing is safe when stored on this piece of junk. Unfortunately, the chapters I originally wrote are gone forever and although I tried to recreate them as best I could they're not quite the same. Nevertheless, I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

Good news about the potential SON movie though right? I had my sister on the phone going on and on about it for ages.

* * *

It takes me almost a full minute to realise where those three words had been spoken from and if Spencer wasn't staring at me as though she was expecting me to speak I would never have believed that she'd said them at all.

She likes me?

Really?

As in the way I like her?

Wait…

"Do you mean -" I start to ask but she quickly cuts me off.

"Yeah. I mean." Is all she says in a breathless tone, almost as though admitting this is physically strenuous for her.

I know that she's expecting me to say something but at the present moment I'm too shocked to speak. Isn't this the same girl who legged it when I tried to kiss her just last night? And now she's here. Telling me she likes me?

"So... you like me like me?"

That may have sounded stupid but I have to make sure. I've been known to be wrong about these things before.

"Yes Ashley." She says impatiently, bouncing on the balls of her feet in what appears to be a nervous habit.

"How do you know?" I blurt out what's on my mind.

"What?"

"How do you know that you like me?"

Maybe I'm asking for too much but I really need to know. I can't remember ever feeling as insecure about myself as I do right now and I desperately need some kind of reassurance.

"Ashley, you can't expect me to -." She starts to say but trails off when I take a step towards her.

"Please." I would say that my tone is pleading but Ashley Davies doesn't beg.

"Well…" My eyes are drawn to the pale skin of her throat as she swallows audibly and I take another step towards her until I can feel the heat exuding from her body. "I know I like you because you're all I think about. I dream about you at night – shut up!"

Her outburst is a reaction to my suggestively waggling eyebrows. There was no way I could resist that.

"Sorry." I say with as much remorse as a person who's not sorry at all can possibly muster.

"And I guess I like you because you're, well…you're you."

"Your skills of observation astound me." I tease her because that's the only weapon I have in my arsenal right now.

It's not like this has never happened to me or anything. Girls are always throwing themselves at my feet but I've never actually felt anything for any of them. But this is different and if I'm honest, I'm completely out of my depth.

She's glaring at me now and I have no idea what else to say but it suddenly dawns on me that I'm a hell of a lot closer to her than I was a few minutes ago. So close in fact that I can see the tiny flecks of grey in her eyes just around the pupil.

I really want to kiss her right now.

"I really want to kiss you right now."

Shit.

I cringe and attempt to take a step back but a soft hand encloses my wrist, keeping me exactly where I am.

"Do it."

I tilt my head to look at her, surprised by her candour. I try to read her expression, searching for the doubts I'm sure are reflected in my own. I recognise several emotions shining in her incredibly blue eyes. Fear. Confusion. Vulnerability. But the certainty in her gaze is prevalent. This is what she wants.

And who am I to deny her?

My hand moves of its own accord, reaching up to cup her smooth cheek. We're both silent and the only thing I can hear is the blood rushing through my ears and the sound of my erratic breathing.

I feel myself instinctively begin to move forward, inching closer and closer until we're less than an inch apart. Her body is pressed up against mine and I can feel her heavy heartbeat mixing with my own. We stay there for a moment, teetering on the edge of what suddenly seems like a huge decision. And...

Fuck. A. Monkey.

I'm about to kiss Spencer Carlin. When the fuck did this happen?

My eyes are still open but I notice that hers have clamped shut as her face sets resolutely and she begins to lean in even further.

Wait...

I can't do this.

My hands act of their own accord, releasing her waist and coming to rest on her shoulders, pushing her gently away.

Her eyes snap open in confusion and she stares at me, waiting for an explanation for my actions.

"I can't." I stutter out because it's the only thing I can offer her right now. My mind still one step behind my body. And then it clicks.

"I'm sorry." I say taking a hasty step back, unable to look her in the eyes, knowing exactly what I'll see in them. She'll look confused, possibly angry, but worst of all she'll be hurt, like they always are when I reject them. But with Spencer it's different. I didn't care about those other girls; I don't remember their names or even their faces let alone their personalities. I didn't feel anything for them. But I feel something for Spencer.

Which makes it suck _so_ much more.

"What do you mean you can't?"

I was right. I can hear the confusion in her tone, laced with a little anger. But most of all, I can hear the hurt. Her normally light and cheerful tone is wounded. And it really, really sucks.

"I can't." I repeat, chancing a glance at her. She's standing, her arms wrapped protectively around her own body as tries to glare at me and tries not to cry all at the same time. "I'm really sorry Spencer."

"Ugh!" She throws her arms into the air in anger and disgust. "I knew this was a mistake. Madison really was right about you."

Madison? What?

"What?"

"She told me that you didn't care about other people's feelings! She told me how you were cold and selfish and heartless, only giving a shit about your own gratification!"

"I told you I was sorry didn't I? I didn't mean to hurt you." I flare up, the mention of Madison Duarte's name getting to me immediately. "I feel really bad about it."

"You feel bad about it?" She all but yells at me, her blonde hair whipping back and forth as she gesticulates wildly. "How do you think I feel? This is what you do isn't it? Be all nice and charming and lead girls on and then humiliate them for fun? That's about right isn't it?"

"Exactly!" I'm yelling now too, in pure exasperation because she doesn't seem to be getting my point of view at all. "Which is why I couldn't kiss you just now! I'm no good for you. When it comes to girls I'm a fucking mess! Which is why this fucking sucks, because I actually do like you Spencer, I really do."

I see her fists clench and for one crazy second I think she's going to attack me until her arms fall limply to her sides.

"Whatever Ashley." Her voice is the epitome of dejected as she turns and yanks the door open. "It's my fault. I should never have come here in the first place. It was a stupid mistake."

She slips on her shoes and before I know it the front door closes with a snap and her footsteps fade away.

I get the sudden urge to run after her, to apologise repeatedly and beg for her to give me another chance to kiss her but I know I'd just chicken out again for the same reasons as before.

Standing on tiptoes I look through the glass window at the top of the door to see that she's vanished completely. Dora is still sat on the driveway, gleaming in the L.A. sun, meaning that Taylor is still around somewhere.

Crossing through the unnecessary large living room and through the equally as ridiculous utility area I see the back door is open.

I find Taylor at the top of the steps that lead to the decking and pool complex, a cigarette clenched between her lips.

I consider asking her to leave because I could really do with some alone time right about now but know that she won't be going anywhere until she gets to put her penny's worth into the situation.

Which is why I'm surprised that when I approach her, she merely removes the cigarette from her mouth and offers it wordlessly to me, pulling the pack out of her back pocket and lighting herself another.

I relish the few minutes of silence, letting the nicotine rush through my body and calm my still arrhythmic breathing.

"You heard?" I ask her, preferring to break the silence.

"I heard you yelling." She nods. "And then I heard her yelling. So I'm guessing it didn't go so well?"

"No."

"Gonna fill me in?"

I remain silent for a moment, watching her take another drag as she continues to face away from me, looking out upon the grassy expanse of garden with thoughtful hazel eyes.

"She told me she likes me."

She finally faces me, one eyebrow cocked and the other one furrowed. I'm so caught up in my thoughts that I don't even spare a thought to how no one should have that much control over their eyebrows.

"As in likes you likes you?" She asks.

"Yeah."

"Then why are you having a 'shit, I hate my life' fag with me and not getting your lady lovin' on with her?"

Shit. I do hate my life.

"Ash?"

"Because I sorta, kinda, pushed her away when she tried to kiss me."

"You did what?"

Both of Taylor's eyebrows have disappeared into her stupid Bieber fringe.

"I couldn't do it alright? Don't judge."

"Why not? Did you get, like, performance anxiety or something?"

"What? No!"

"Then why the fuck didn't you kiss the girl? You've only been sending her mooneyes for the last two months. All I've heard is Spencer this, Spencer that and you're telling me she was right there, ready and willing to kiss you and your balls dropped off?"

"No! That's not what happened, well it kind of is but -."

"But what Ash?" She interrupts me, stubbing her cigarette out rather violently on my polished wooden steps. "You like this girl right?" I nod. "Then why the fuck didn't you grab the opportunity by the balls and run with it?"

"Okay one, stop making references to balls. It's gross." I tell her because I'm starting to get a little bit pissed off. "And two, shut up and listen."

She appraises me for a second before nodding and offering me another stick of death which I gladly accept.

"Okay." I take a long drag, trying to process my thoughts and convert them into coherent sentences. "So I did kind of freak out. But the more I think about it the more I realise I did the right thing." Taylor opens her mouth to interrupt but I cut her off. "No, listen. Spencer's this sweet, innocent, _catholic_ schoolgirl who's suddenly decided that she's a lesbian and wants to get with this rough, rebellious, unruly badass? What is this? A TV show? I don't think so. Those kinds of things just don't work out in real life. And even if she is gay do you really think that getting with someone like me is a great way to begin your rug munching days?"

"Point."

"Exactly. I've never even had a proper girlfriend for fucks sake. We'll be like two lesbian relationship virgins. And you know what two virgins equals?"

"Fumbling." Taylor nods wisely.

"Precisely. It'll be a mess. I don't know how to be someone's girlfriend. I don't know about that romantic, monogamous crap. Spencer deserves to be with someone who can show her the ropes and make her feel like a princess and all that. If I thought I was up to the job, I wouldn't hesitate."

I take a deep breath and send Taylor an imploring look, praying that she'll understand.

"I get where you're coming from Ash."

I can feel a 'but' coming and from the look on her face I can tell I'm not going to like it.

"But you _like_ her."

"So," I shrug. "That's exactly why I can't date her. I'd wreck her."

"How do you know if you haven't even tried?"

"I just do. Taylor, shut up okay? I've made my decision already. And even if I hadn't I'm pretty sure Spencer's never even going to even look at me again."

I run a stressed hand through my hair and lean heavily against the wooden banister, remembering the crushed look on Spencer's face.

"She must have been crushed." Taylor reads my unhappy expression, knowing what I'm thinking.

"Yeah." I sigh. "I think she was. I don't know why. They'll be a tonne of girls lining up to get with her if she wants."

"But she doesn't want. Apparently she wants you."

"I don't know why." I stare glumly at my hands. "I'm nothing special. She could do better."

"Maybe." I feel Taylor pat my shoulder gently and the contact makes me want to cry. "But you're a pretty hot bitch Ash. And sometimes you can be a complete idiot but you're also a pretty stand up gal. In my personal opinion, Spencer Carlin would be fucking lucky."

Even though she just called me a bitch and an idiot her little speech brings unshed tears to my eyes. My conversation come altercation with Spencer has left me a little emotionally fragile.

"Thanks Tay." I choke out. "I just don't think it's gonna happen. But hey, plenty more fish in the sea and all that."

"That may be. But you'll find very few original 1974 Ducati 750 sport series on the road nowadays."

Only Taylor could find a way to bring motorbikes into this conversation but I understand her analogy. There may be more girls but there might not be many that I have such strong feeling for. This conversation has suddenly become extremely stifling.

"Look, Ash." She stares hard at me and I get that uncomfortable feeling that she can see right through my attempted hardy, untouchable facade. "I just don't want -."

"Stop." I put my hand up to halt what she's going to say next. "I swear to god Tay, if you're going to say something like 'I don't want you to live with regret' or 'don't let her get away' please don't. You've been reading way too many of those romance novels."

It's true too. I walked into Taylor's bedroom last week to find her reading 'Gone with the wind'. The fact that she was reading at all was enough to make me lightheaded with shock. I didn't even know that Taylor knew what a library was let alone _where_ one was. The only thing Taylor reads are magazines, mainly about motorcycles and soccer but she has a huge pile of playboy's under her bed that she thinks no one knows about. So the fact that she was reading something with more than forty pages was an extreme oddity.

"Hey. Don't judge." She frowns at me. "Gone with the wind is a classic."

"Whatever Tay." I rest my head on my arms, suddenly feeling both physically and emotionally drained. I really just want to be left alone.

Taylor rests her hand briefly on my lower back before it travels up to give my shoulder another firm squeeze.

I turn my head to the side and raise my eyebrows at her in question but she merely gives me a small but genuine smile. She reaches into her back pocket and extracts the battered box of Marlboro lights, before leaving them by my head along with a disposable lighter.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" She questions and I nod gratefully.

She turns and walks back towards the door as I look back out over the garden contemplating whether or not I should get a beer or just start on the spirits. I always end up there anyway.

"And Ash?"

I spin around to see Taylor lingering in the doorway, her shoulder pressed against the doorjamb.

"What?"

"Promise me you won't get too drunk tonight? I don't think your Mum's pot plant can take another round."

* * *

Thanks for reading. Sorry for the wait. Next chapter will be up within the week. Promise.


	13. Straddling the Enemy

Hey everybody. For once I'm keeping true to my promise and posting before the week is out.

I know that some people were annoyed at Ashley for her reaction last chapter and as I'm just making this story up as I go along I decided that she would reject Spencer on a complete whim just because I thought it was a rather Ashley thing to do. Well, my form of Ashley anyway. My Ashley is pretty insecure underneath all of the cocky bravado so I figured that because her emotional attraction to Spencer is so new for her she might freak out a little bit.

Plus, it's a story. There has to be a little drama right? I can't be all like, Ashley meets Spencer, they become friends, Ashley realises she likes Spencer, Spencer realises she likes Ashley back, and Spencer confesses her feelings. They get together and live happily ever after. The end.

I don't know about you guys, but to me? That's a pretty boring story. But I apologise if I'm drawing it out too long and it's getting too frustrating. Unfortunately for you, it might get even more frustrating before it gets better but I hope that doesn't put you off.

**Your Relentless Lover**: Firstly, thanks for the review. Secondly, to address your point. I do agree with you but as I said, I was writing on a whim and a lot of the things I put in my stories I base on things I've experienced or known others to experience in real life. I once had the biggest crush on one of my sisters' friends when I was sixteen. Turned out that she liked me too but I turned her down because I didn't feel good enough to date her. Maybe it was stupid but I remember what I felt like then and realised that it would be something similar to what Ashley might feel like in regards to the whole Spencer situation. So I decided to go with that. Here's your more frequent update ;)

* * *

It's been almost a week since Spencergate. Unfortunately, my prediction was indeed correct. I've barely seen the blonde at all let alone had a chance to speak to her. Not that I'd know what to say anyway.

It's probably better off this way. Out of sight out of mind and all that.

Except it's not. I still think about her just as much as I did before if not more. But instead of thinking of her blue eyes sparkling as she laughs, or her blonde hair billowing in the wind, I can't help but see her wounded eyes. Her crushed face. Her trembling lips.

This whole taking the moral high ground thing really sucks. I'm not at all surprised I've never tried it before. It's really not good for my liver.

I've been out drinking pretty much every night this week. Once with Taylor, but I haven't really been up for trying to bag any hot girls recently so watching her leave with a stoned redhead was a little too much to handle.

Both Taylor and Kyla have been acting like the Ashley police all week, probably scared I might do myself in or something. At least one of them is always around to pick me up from the club or the bar at about midnight and stay up with me during the night whilst I'm trying to regurgitate what seems like all my vital organs.

"Alright Ash?"

Taylor claps me on the back as she sits beside me at lunch, throwing an apple from one hand to the other as Aiden clambers clumsily onto the bench on her other side.

"Hey Tay. Aid." I nod to them, gnawing on the crust of my sandwich because it's the only thing my battered digestive system can stomach right now.

"Hungover again?" Aiden grins goofily at me as I glare at him from under my heavy duty shades.

"Reckon you can give your liver a rest tonight Ash?" Taylor nudges me. "It is my birthday tomorrow and I expect you to be in full working order, ready to wait on my every need."

"Of course you do."

As is the tradition for Taylor's birthday, she seems to revert back to being an excited toddler who needs everything doing for her. I wouldn't be surprised if this year she asks me to wipe her own ass for her.

"Excellent." Taylor rubs her hands together gleefully. "You coming to the game tonight?"

"Of course." I give the obligatory reply to the question she always asks.

"Who're you playing?" Aiden asks and Taylor is drawn into a conversation with him which quickly turns into an argument about whether basketball or soccer is the better sport.

I just sit there and wonder if there's a chance that Spencer will be at the game tonight.

* * *

As I make my way onto the King High soccer pitch that evening my question is answered almost immediately by the familiar flash of blonde hair sitting on the very front row of the bleachers.

I really don't know why she's here. Taylor and Spencer aren't exactly good friends even though they're neighbours and all. As far as I'm aware, Taylor hasn't spoken to Spencer since I last spoke to her.

I glance to where Taylor is taking the team through some warm-up drills and narrow my eyes. I immediately feel guilty. Taylor wouldn't have invited her. She's nothing if not loyal.

Taylor starts to take the team through some stretching exercises and I realise that I'm still standing at the edge of the field like an idiot.

I make my way to the bleachers and take my seat at the back as the team break away from their circle and begin to do some individual stretches and warm ups.

The familiar figure of Carmen Sanchez, decked out in her kit, approaches the bleachers and my eyes instinctively narrow in her direction until they see who she's talking to. Then they widen in surprise.

Spencer's laughter carries to where I'm sitting and I grind my teeth together.

"Thanks for coming." I hear Carmen say.

"It's no problem." I can hear the smile in Spencer's voice and it makes me feel physically sick.

"I wasn't sure if you'd show." Carmen admits to her and my memory flashes back to when I said something similar to her not too long ago.

"You asked me to." Spencer shrugs. "And my neighbour is on the team as well so it's nice to come and support her too."

"Neighbour?"

"Yeah. Taylor Jones?"

From where I'm sitting I can see Carmen's face darken considerably as her head turns to glower at my best friend who's still doing over enthusiastic stretches in the middle of the field.

"Oh. Right." She says as though the mention of Taylor leaves a bad taste in her mouth or something.

"But thanks for inviting me." Spencer continues, seemingly ignoring the serious hate vibes Carmen is sending Taylor. "It's great to make some new friends. As much as I enjoy hanging out with the cheerleaders it's nice to have a break from them sometimes."

"I can imagine."

They share a laugh and it makes me want to kill someone. Namely Carmen Sanchez.

"Alright Bud?"

I almost jump out of my skin and fall backwards off of the bleachers as Taylor appears out of nowhere beside me.

"What the fuck Tay?" I run a stressed hand through my hair. Where the fuck did she even come from?

"Sorry." She laughs jovially at my expense. "I just came to say hello before kickoff. You know, like I always do."

"Yeah, sorry. I'm just a little distracted."

Taylor follows my glare to where Carmen and Spencer are standing. A little bit too close to each other.

"Oh." She says. "Damn. Girl moves fast."

"Do you really think Sanchez will try it?" I ask even though it looks like she already is.

"Probably." Taylor rubs her chin thoughtfully. "Carmen's a little bitch though. She's always resented me for getting the captaincy so she's a pain in the arse to me during training. Doesn't help that my best friend tried to rip her weave clean off either."

She sends me a pointed look and I turn my gaze away, something else immediately catching my eye.

What. The. Fuck?

"Er, Tay." I poke her shoulder. "What the fuck is Madison doing here?"

I narrow my gaze at the Latina, who's sitting bold as brass at the centre of the bleachers having an overly flirtatious conversation with what I have no doubt is the boyfriend of one of the opposition players.

"Search me." Taylor shrugs, but there's something in the way she ducks her head slightly that makes me think she's not being entirely truthful. "Maybe she's come to be my own personal cheerleader. We all know the she wants to get up on this."

I shake my head in both amusement and exasperation as Taylor runs her hands down her own body, which at this moment, doesn't actually look that great because of the baggy green and yellow kit she's wearing.

"Whatever little Miss deluded." I roll my eyes because her obsession with Madison has got to stop.

"Actually Ash. There's something I wanted to talk to you about after the game. Fancy going to get some coffee or something?"

The uncharacteristic seriousness of her tone interrupts my alternating, unreciprocated glaring sessions with Carmen and Madison.

Both of Taylor's brows are furrowed this time and she's gazing at me with a sense of uncertainty that freaks me out a little bit.

"What have you done?" I ask suspiciously, calling her out on her abnormal behaviour.

"Nothing. I just want to talk. So, coffee?"

"Okay." I nod but send her a pointed look to tell her that she's going to be getting a grilling later.

"Alright. Well, I better get down there." There's an unexplainable awkwardness exuding from her as she reaches down and pats me on the back. "Wish me luck. Not that I need it."

"Good luck."

I watch her go through suspiciously narrowed eyes and glancing to my left notice that I'm not the only one watching her descent.

Hold. The. Motherfucking. Phone.

Is it just me or is Madison fucking Duarte staring appreciatively at my best friend's ass?

No. There is just no way. Maybe I'm the deluded one.

Giving my head a firm shake back and forth to dislodge all ridiculous and utterly inconceivable thoughts from my mind I turn my reluctant gaze back to where Carmen is _still_ talking to Spencer. What are they even talking about? Hey I'm Carmen. I play soccer. I'm poor. I have fifty brothers and sisters. Why the hell does Spencer look so invested in their conversation?

Leaning forward I pick up the last few sentences of their exchange.

"Wish me luck." Carmen is saying in that irritating manner of hers.

"Good luck."

Spencer reaches up and wraps her arms around the other girl and I think I just threw up a little bit in my mouth. They barely even know each other so why the fuck is Spencer hugging her? This is all wrong.

Carmen whispers something in her ear and Spencer breaks out into a girly giggle. One I've heard a million times before from girls I've flirted with.

I can't do this. I can't sit here and watch Spencer flirting with that bitch. To say it leaves me with a bitter taste in my mouth is an understatement. I can literally feel the bile rising in my throat.

The worst thing is that it's all my own doing. I told her that I didn't want her so she's decided to wander into the arms of the nearest whore who throws themselves at her feet. If she can do better than me surely she can do better than that community service project.

My legs move of their own volition and I'm standing up and shuffling across the bleachers before my brain can even catch up. When it eventually has, I turn back and briefly try to catch Taylor's attention or at least throw her an apologetic glance but she's too busy baiting the opposition's captain to look my way.

With a heavy sigh, I take one last fleeting look at the blonde that's fucked me up so badly and make my way towards my Cayenne.

What a mess.

* * *

It's almost eleven o'clock that night and I'm lying on my bed feeling sorry for myself as I have been for the last two and a half hours.

I turn my head to stare at the silent cell phone on my desk. I had expected Taylor to have at least dropped me a text by now or even come barging through my bedroom door but she's been strangely missing in action.

It strikes me as a possibility that she might be mad at me for missing her game but Taylor isn't really one to hold a grudge and I'm sure she'd understand with the extraordinary circumstance of the Spencer, Carmen and Madison three pronged attack.

It still strikes me as odd that she hasn't been in contact and for one absurd moment I fathom the thought that maybe Madison was there to ambush Taylor after the game so that she could take her to some abandoned warehouse with the other cheerleaders and torture her into becoming more feminine.

Leaping from the bed and grabbing my phone and keys from the desk I make an impulsive decision to go and check on her. Just in case.

On my way down the stairs I pass through the living room and only notice Kyla sitting on the couch at the last minute.

"Going to Taylor's." I tell her, turning back at the doorway.

That's when I also realise that she's not alone. A sheepish looking Aiden is slouched on the couch next to her and they seem to be watching a film together.

"Are you two on a _date_?" I cock my eyebrows incredulously at my baby sister.

"N-no!" They both stutter out, turning matching radish red.

"We're just hanging out." Aiden clarifies.

"Yeah. It's not like you or Taylor have had much time to hang out with us lately." Kyla observes a little indignantly. "With all your romance drama."

"Whatever." I grumble because I know she's right. I have sort of been ignoring all my other friends the past few weeks. "But can't you hang out with someone who doesn't have a dick? Where's Chelsea?"

"Out with her boyfriend." Kyla replies with a huff. "She's dating Spencer Carlin's brother."

"Glen?"

"No, the other one. Clay."

"Right." I ignore the fact that it seems like everyone has a Carlin but me and continue on my way. I turn back at the doorway and jab an accusatory finger in Aiden's direction. "Keep your grubby mits off my sister, Buster. Clear?"

Aiden gulps and nods, sliding further away from Kyla as the girl throws me a haughty glare.

"Have fun." I send her a teasing grin as I dash out of the front door and hop into my Porsche, driving the short way to Taylor's house.

As I've done a million times before, I retrieve the spare key from underneath the stone otter in the garden and open the front door to let myself in. Mr. Jones is on another business trip across the country and although he's promised to try and get back for at least some of Taylor's eighteenth birthday I doubt he'll make it. He didn't last year, or the year before.

That's why this year I've put a lot of effort into Taylor's present. Not only have I exploited her unnatural obsession for all things sports by buying her tickets to soccer, ice hockey, football, baseball, basketball and beach volleyball games as well as getting a soccer jersey signed by the entire team she supports back in England and getting it framed and sent over but I've also put together a super mushy yet obligatory best friend photo album, with pictures of Taylor age six months to seventeen. Most of the pictures courtesy of Mr. Jones who I was fortunate to catch on a rare couple of days off a month ago.

As I enter the Jones' residence my feet move automatically towards the den, where at this time of the night, Taylor can usually be found playing Call of Duty and whooping loudly as she decapitates Nazi zombies.

The fact that Taylor's gaming chair is stashed in the corner and the lack of Xbox controllers on the floor adds a lot of weight to my cheerleader torture theory.

My next port of call is the bedroom and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that the lamp is on, casting a dim glow over the room and leaving the walls, which I know to be covered with posters of soccer players and semi naked women, in shadow.

Cloppy is curled up at the end of the bed and he cracks open an eye and throws me a one-eyed glare as I enter the room. I send him a two-eyed glare to assert my superiority.

I immediately notice the steadily breathing lump under the covers and frown. Taylor is what one could almost call an insomniac. If you're ever awake at two in the morning and feel like talking to someone Taylor is your girl. Well, if you ever feel like listening to the sound of either heavy breathing, swearing or sub machine gun bullet fire down the phone at two in the morning Taylor is your girl.

So the fact that she's in bed by 11pm is slightly disconcerting. She must be sick or something. Taylor normally likes to sleep in the middle of the bed spread out like a starfish and from where I'm standing she seems to be curled up in a foetal position at the very edge.

With an evil grin forming on my face I stealthily cross the room and leap onto the bed, straddling the sleeping form.

The grin slips clean off my face when I realise that the person I'm currently sitting on top of is far smaller and has a much slimmer waist than Taylor.

Shit. When will I learn? I _really_ wish that this was the first time this has happened.

Before I can scramble off of them the person turns onto their back, grumbling incoherently.

Slender, delicately manicured hands appear over the top of the blue pinstriped duvet and pull it away.

What the...

The sleep ridden face I'm met with may not be Taylor's but it's just as familiar. Her eyes widen to an almost comical proportion to match my own and time seems to stand still.

Question: Why the fuck am I currently straddling Madison Duarte?

* * *

Thanks for reading!

Sorry I haven't gotten around to thanking my newest and absolutely brilliant reviewers yet. I will be listing you all next chapter. Scouts honour.

Hope you all had a great Easter.


	14. Hello Trouble

I'm a terrible person. I know. I apologise profusely, as I seem to be doing more and more often lately. But I just want you all to know that I'm not gonna give up on this story. I will finish it and hopefully will have more time to do so at present.

Anyway, I also apologise for the lack of Spashley in the next couple of chapters. I'm going to work on giving Ashley some food for thought so that we can work up to proper Spashley time. I hope you continue to enjoy the story. Even though the author is prone to increasingly sporadic updates. I will try harder. I will.

* * *

Have you ever had one of those moments in your life when you are so utterly shocked that it feels like time has frozen? When you are literally _so_ bamboozled that every muscle in your body freezes up and all you can hear is some distant buzzing noise in your ear that could potentially be your own brain shrivelling up and dying with utter confoundedness?

That's kind of what's happening to me right now.

Because I'm straddling Madison Duarte. I'm _actually _straddling her. And I'm straddling her because she's in Taylor's bed.

She's in Taylor's bed...

Comprehension of the situation hits me like a speeding fifty tonne bus and I scramble off of the bed, releasing something that sounds half scream half yelp. A 'screlp' if you will.

Because Madison Duarte is in Taylor's bed. And that can only mean one thing.

Right?

My eyes immediately zone in on Madison's bare shoulders and the way she's clutching the covers to her chest.

Please let this be a horrible nightmare.

"Hey baby, ready for round two?"

Madison's eyes get even wider as the familiar voice echoes across the room and I whip around. Taylor is standing in the doorway, a white towel wrapped loosely around her waist, her short wet hair sticking to her forehead as droplets of water continue to drip down her freshly showered body.

There's a seductive smirk spread across her face and for the second time that day I feel a strong urge to vomit.

"Taylor?"

My exclamation surprises me, my voice ridiculously high-pitched and horribly strangled.

Her eyes almost fall clean out of their sockets as she sees me standing at the side of the bed and then they swivel to Madison who has yet to say a word. Which is really rather surprising considering how she usually loves to mouth off.

"Taylor Elizabeth Jones..." I take a couple of threatening steps towards the cringing girl, blatantly ignoring the fact that she's half naked. "Please god, tell me this isn't what I think it is."

"Er..." She takes an involuntary step backwards as the hand not clutching the towel to her waist rises to scratch awkwardly at the back of her neck.

"If it is what you think it is Davies, then it's really none of your business." A familiar voice comes from behind me.

I knew that bitch couldn't stay quiet for long.

I whip around to face her.

"You." I point aggressively at her. "Shut the fuck up. You!" I turn so my finger is pointing right up into Taylor's terrified face. "Talk!"

"I...uh...um..." Taylor's usually confident demeanour seems to have vanished completely and been replaced with a stammering, bumbling fool. "Er...can we talk outside?"

"Why?" I've gotten over my incapacitating disbelief and now I am royally pissed. What the fuck is she playing at? "Surely there's nothing you can say to me that your new _lover_ can't hear."

"Ash..." Taylor pleads with me, her expression not dissimilar to a dying puppy but I don't see the emotions in her eyes that I desperately want to be there. I want to see some regret, maybe even a little repulsion at what she's just done and most of all, I want to see a hell of a lot of remorse.

Because this shit is not cool.

"Please Ash. Let's just talk about this outside." She looks over my shoulder and her head moves in an almost imperceptible nod but I'm so close to her that I see it.

What the fuck?

Please tell she is not silently communicating with Madison Duarte right now.

Hello, Twilight Zone.

I hear the sound of drawers opening from behind me and turn to see Madison leaning over, the covers still clasped to her obviously naked chest, fumbling through Taylor's chest of drawers.

She grabs what I know to be Taylor's favourite grey t-shirt and pair of boxers and throws them over to my petrified best friend.

Possibly soon to be ex-best friend because the fact that Madison knows where Taylor keeps her clothes and which ones happen to be her favourite is _extremely _disturbing.

Taylor slips in the clothes with the expertise of someone who's had to change in front of other people a million times before and forcibly grasps my hand, pulling me out of the room, down the stairs and into the kitchen where she situates herself on one side of the island and me on the other, clearly fearing for her own safety.

And so she should be.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MOTHERFUCKING MIND?" I erupt, my emotions bubbling to the surface as Taylor grimaces and puts at least another metre of space between us. "TAYLOR! THAT'S MADISON FUCKING DUARTE! IN YOUR FUCKING BED! WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?"

She opens her mouth to reply but quickly snaps it shut again, seemingly trying to form the answer that will best appease me.

And it better. I swear to god, if she's not on her knees in ten seconds flat begging for my forgiveness and telling me what a terrible mistake she's made I will murder her.

"Look Ashley..." Taylor begins, taking a deep breath to steady herself and the way she's talking makes me think that I'm definitely not going to like what she's going to say. Her tone is similar to one you would use when conversing with a dying person. "This is what I wanted to talk to you about after the game."

"What? That you were thinking about fucking Madison?"

"Er, no, not exactly." Taylor wrings her hands together nervously, clenching her eyes she shut as she says: "That I have kind of, er, _been_ having, er, sexual contact with Madison for a little while now."

What?

"_WHAT?_" I 'screlp'.

"I didn't mean for it to happen or anything." Taylor backtracks. "It sort of just happened. And then it happened again...and again."

I really didn't need this today. I really did not. How could she do this to me? The one person in the world I told her she could never have sex with (well, except for my mother, but that goes without saying.) and she goes and does this.

"How long?"

I'm not shouting anymore. I don't think I could if I tried. I feel kind of weak and wimpy. Like that feeling you get before you're about to faint or throw up or something.

"Um," Taylor scratches at the back of her neck again, thinking back. "Remember that day I stole her clothes when she was in the shower?"

"What the fuck Taylor? That was like two months ago!"

"I know." She grimaces. "But like I said, it just happened. I felt kind of bad about the prank, so I texted her to come and get her clothes. She turned up and started mouthing off and stuff and then we had a bit of an argument and then out of nowhere she just kissed me and then -."

"Stop!" I hold up a hand, shuddering. "Stop right there."

"Sorry."

Taylor hangs her head and stares at her hands, her shoulders slumped awkwardly as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. She looks the picture of a scorned child and for a moment I almost feel bad for her. Emphasis on the almost.

Taylor and I rarely have serious arguments. I'd like to think it's because neither of us are particularly argumentative people but if I'm being honest I've been shooting my mouth off since I could speak. The real reason that Taylor and I seldom fight is probably because Taylor doesn't really do a lot wrong.

But this is _so_ wrong.

"She _tortured_ me." I tell her. "Before you even came to King she made my life a living hell. She turned everyone against me. Parents, students, teachers...and for the longest time she made me feel like being a lesbian was a bad thing. She made me feel like I couldn't be myself. She made me _hate_ myself for who I was. But you _know_ that. Why the hell did you do this? You know that you can have any girl you want. So why the fuck do you have to have _her_?"

"I don't know." Taylor rasps, unable to meet my eyes, which I know are filled with hurt and probably a little betrayal.

Because I do feel betrayed.

"When you and I made that pact about who to have sex with and who not to that wasn't a joke you know. It wasn't some gimmick you could just go back on now that we're older." I throw my hands up in the air in disbelief. "And Madison, Tay? _Madison._ Why did it have to be Madison?"

"I'm sorry alright?" Taylor finally looks up at me and her eyes are shining with the remorse I was looking for. "I didn't deliberately set out to hurt you I swear. You know I wouldn't do that." I nod, accepting that to be the truth. "But behind closed doors, Madison isn't that bad. She's really misunderstood. Have you met her Mum? She's possibly the most repressive bitch I've ever met."

"And so is her daughter!" I burst out angrily. "Are you seriously defending her?"

"No! Well...sort of." Taylor rubs her face in frustration. "Look Ash, you don't really know the real Madison -."

"Oh, and you do?" I round the island so that I'm standing right in front of her but she continues to look as determined as ever.

I really want to physically shake some sense into her.

"Yeah. I do." A pulse starts to tick in her jaw. "I know that you think Madison is this massive, homophobic bitch who doesn't care about anything but her reputation and cheerleading but it's not true."

"Yes it is!" I scream at her and I'm pretty sure I look deranged right now. "That's exactly what she is! Well, maybe she isn't as homophobic as I thought..."

I trail off because now I'm thoroughly confused. Madison's been hating on me for years for being a lesbian and now she's sleeping with Taylor? That doesn't add up at all.

"So, is she like a lesbian now?"

There's a momentary reprieve in our argument as I try to process this new revelation and Taylor's contemplates my question.

"I don't know." She eventually says. "Maybe. It would explain a lot."

"Er, no it wouldn't." I disagree because why would a homosexual be homophobic? That doesn't make sense at all.

"Psychological studies have shown that the most homophobic people often turn out to be gay." Taylor shrugs and I raise my eyebrows and gape at her. It not often that Taylor whips out her sporadic intelligence. "Yeah. A study was done years ago where homophobic men were shown gay porn and their...man reactions, were on average far more...prominent... than the non-homophobic men."

Okay. First she sleeps with Madison and now she's talking about gay porn and 'man reactions'? This is so not okay.

"Ugh!" I shake my head to try and clear it. "Okay." I take deep calming breaths as Taylor stares at me like I've gone mad. What a cheek. I'm not the one that's fucking Madison Duarte. "It's okay." I finally come to a plausible conclusion.

"It is?" Taylor looks uncertain.

"Yeah." I take another deep breath. "I get it. You have hormones and stuff and Madison's...okay looking if you're into that kind of thing. And knowing that you couldn't have her made her tempting or whatever but now that I know about it you can start sleeping with someone else right?" I nod, satisfied with my damage control. "What about that redhead from the other night? She was hot."

"Er..." Taylor's hand reaches back up to scratch at her neck uncomfortably. "I didn't actually sleep with her."

What the fuck is she talking about? We just had a massive argument about how she's sleeping with Madison. She really has lost it.

"Not Madison." She clarifies quickly, seeing my bewildered expression. "The redhead. I didn't have sex with her."

"Why not? Did she pass out?"

Man, I hate it when that happens.

"No..." Taylor drags out the word, like she's not telling me something.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Well...I haven't actually slept with anyone else since Madison and I started, you know whatting."

"WHAT?"

"Ash, please don't shout." Taylor has the audacity to rub at her ears, a pained expression crossing her face.

"Are you _dating_ her?"

Having sex with, I can get over, but dating? That's a whole different story.

"No!" Taylor holds up her hands submissively, probably because she thinks I'm about to hit her. "Bloody hell Ash, calm down. We just have an arrangement is all. I don't sleep with anyone but her and she doesn't sleep with anyone but me."

"That's dating you tool!" I smack her chest, unable to keep my frustration and horror in anymore. "That's a monogamous relationship!"

"A what?"

"I can't believe this!" I hit her again. "You're fucking _dating_ Madison Duarte! Are you in love with her? Do you want to have her lady babies?"

"No!" Taylor's yelling now too, which she very rarely does. I sober a little. "Stop talking bollocks! It's just a casual thing. Bloody hell Ashley, why are you being like this? I'm sorry you don't like this but I'm not going to stop just because you don't like Madison. You're not my bloody mother!"

"But I am your best friend!"

"Well then start acting like it!" She bellows back. "You're being irrational! I know you hate Madison or whatever but this doesn't really even affect you! I'm not asking you to like her, I'm not asking you to be happy that I'm fucking her but I am asking you to stop taking the fact that you fucked up with Spencer out on me!"

She's taken it too far and by the look in her widening eyes she knows it. The Spencer thing has royally fucked me up and for her to even bring it up whilst I'm already hopping mad is brave, if not downright stupid.

If I was angry before, now I'm absolutely seething. This day has been such a bitch.

"Fuck you!" I yell at her, giving her one last push before whipping around and storming back over to the door.

I briefly contemplate storming back up the stairs to give Madison a piece of my mind and maybe even a piece of my fist but I think if I have to see her sitting in Taylor's bed one more time I might become physically ill.

"Ashley, wait..."

I feel Taylor's hand on my shoulder and violently shrug it off before flinging open the door, stepping out and slamming the door behind me.

* * *

The wee hours of the morning find me sitting in the corner of a local club slash bar completely bladdered.

I can barely remember my first shot and everyone around me looks like freaky characters from those weird children's cartoons that are on Nickelodeon nowadays.

I have no idea how I'm going to stand up let alone how I'm going to get home.

I would normally have called Taylor to come and pick me up four shots ago but I'm so mad at her right now.

I could call Kyla but I'm not in the mood to be lectured on the dangers of drinking. That and Aiden would probably tag along and frankly, the boy annoys me.

The same two things keep going around and around in my head, like some kind of weird mantra.

Fuck Taylor.

Fuck Madison.

Fuck Spencer.

Okay, I think that's three things.

Fuck everyone.

Maybe four.

Fuck Taylor.

Fuck Madison.

Fuck Spencer.

Fuck every...

"Are you Ashley Davies?"

My mantra is interrupted by a voice in my ear. It sounds really far away and I can barely hear it over the dull thump in my head.

"Whaaaa?" I slur out, tilting my head to the side until it droops onto my shoulder and attempting to focus on the distinctly male voice coming from my left.

"Ashley Davies?" Another, different voice comes from my right and now I'm majorly confused.

Which way do I look now?

"Yesss...Me Ashleeey."

This is why you shouldn't drink kids. This is what happens.

Suddenly I feel two hands grip my wrists and drag me up from where I'm sitting.

"The fuck?"

I have no idea what's happening. I can barely see anything around me let alone who the hell is dragging me along.

A cool breeze hits my face and I flinch as it bites at my skin as I continue to stumble along, bumping against the people flanking me.

"She's completely off her face." I hear one of the disembodied voices say. "We'll take her home."

No idea who these people are, but home sounds pretty good around now.

The force of the wind sobers me slightly and the world starts to spin a little less replaced with a wave of nausea that I just about manage to control. My back scraped against something rough and solid that feels a little like a wall. In fact, I think it is a wall.

Blinking against a blur of light in my peripheral vision I focus on the two figures in front of me.

"My name is Aaron Sanchez." One of them leans forward and whispers in my ear. He smells like stale cigarette smoke and severe body odour and I once again have to fight the urge to lose my stomach contents. "And this here is my brother Carlos."

I think he gestures to the other human shaped blob to his right because something that looks vaguely like an arm moves in front of me.

"Our little sister Carmen has been telling me a few things about you Ashley."

Oh shit. These are Carmen's brothers? Well, that explains why they smell so bad.

"Yeah." A different voice joins the first, a little too close to my face for my liking. "And you should know that no one gets away with laying a finger on our sister."

My stomach drops instinctively as my body automatically starts to react to the potential danger of this situation.

I believe that they call it the 'flight' or 'fight' response. Unfortunately, I am currently in no fit state to perform either. If only there was some kind of teleport option. That would be really good right about now.

Because this is really bad.

"I think you need to be taught a bit of a lesson."

A callused hand grabs my wrist as another closes around my mouth and I begin to sober up faster than I ever have in my life. I try to push the boy closest to me away with my free hand as the other squeezes my wrist painfully tight and I yell out against the hand covering my mouth, tasting the acrid, salty skin on my tongue.

My heart begins to pound in my chest, terrified beyond belief. My head is still spinning horribly, my breathing fragmented and shallow as black spots begin to appear in my already compromised vision.

The last thing I hear before my body goes limp and my head cracks back against the coarse wall behind me is the loud roar of a familiar engine.

* * *

Uh-oh. I'm just so mean aren't I? Not gonna lie, I love it. I'd love to know what you think. Do you hate me ;)? Do you think Ashley overreacted about the whole Madison/Taylor thing?

Anyway. As promised. Shout-outs to my newest reviewers: Domca, IaMaFaLlEnDaRkAnGEL, BlackanYellow, Lolo06, Breakdown6, awe, epikkk, n, r, Msstoryteller100, pinky23, BehindTheWords, araceliknight24, ertech, rockdragon293, isly182, cocoa-pop, factoflife02, pdsc325, wtf, WillowOn3.

Wow. That's probably why I should't let it pile up like that. Anyway, thanks a million to all of you guys. I really appreciate your valuable contributions and encouragement.

Thanks for reading!


	15. Laid Bare

The greatest of apologies. Seriously, my bad.

* * *

Ouch.

Fuck that hurts.

Did I fall off that giraffe and hit my head on that rock for real? I thought it was just another one of my wacky safari animal themed dreams.

My eyes are clenched shut but my head is still throbbing so badly that I really wish I'd never woken up in the first place.

My hand twitches slightly on what I think is my pillow as I try to recall what happened last night and why exactly my head feels like it's about to split clean in half and my body can hardly move it's so heavy and limp.

An incoherent groan emerges from the back of my throat and I open my mouth slightly only to snap it shut as a wave of nausea hits me like a frying pan to the face.

Fuck.

What _happened_ last night?

This isn't any normal hangover. This is like the big daddy of hangovers. In fact, it's like the big daddy's daddy of hangovers.

I don't know how long I lie here but it feels like hours. I can't even so much roll over or open my eyes because I'm scared the pain might literally kill me.

"Ashley?"

A gravelly, almost unrecognisable voice comes from somewhere to my left and it's the motive I need to force my eyes open just a crack. Another groan tears harshly from my stinging throat as the tiny stream of light entering the room burns my retinas like hot coals.

I vaguely hear someone shuffling around the room as, to my immense relief; the small, but incredibly painful beam of what I assume is sunlight is eradicated.

I try to open my eyes once again to find the room is now almost completely dark. The tiniest amount of light seeping through the bottom of my 'blackout' blind is the only indication of the fact that it must be past sunrise.

"Ashley?"

There's that voice again. I think I recognise it but the intonation is oddly concerned and the sound strangely muffled, as though the person has a bad cold.

Taylor didn't have a bad cold the last time I spoke to her.

"Ashley? Can you hear me?"

"T-Tah?" I try to speak but as soon as I open my mouth I feel like a might throw up. Not to mention the fact my tongue is stuck to the roof of my horribly dry mouth.

I feel a rough hand close around my wrist as something cold is pressed into my hand. After clutching at it with my uncoordinated fingers for a moment I realise it's a glass of water.

I can see movement in front of my heavily lidded eyes as the silhouetted figure of who I believe to be my best friend brings their arm around my neck and helps me into a sitting position.

"Ashley. It's me. Taylor." She affirms in my ear, still speaking in that strange voice. It sounds almost as though she's developed a speech impediment over night or something.

The cool rim of the glass is pressed to my lips and I take a few sips of water before nudging it away with my chin, unable to keep my mouth open for long for fear of throwing up on my best friend.

She wasn't particularly pleased the first time it happened and I promised never to do it again.

The water soothes my system a little bit and loosens up my heavy tongue as I open my eyes a little wider.

Everything is blurry and spinning horribly and it takes almost a full minute to focus on anything for more than a second.

"Ah, god..." I rasp out, bringing my wobbly hand to my head. A moment later I realise that there's a foreign lump just beneath my hairline. I touch it lightly but quickly retract my hand.

Shit. That hurts like a bitch.

"Waah? Waah happened las' nigh'?" I direct the question to my left hand side, where Taylor is likely to be sitting on the wicker chair near my bed.

"You went to a club." Taylor lisps. "Got completely blitzed out of your mind." There's a pregnant pause and I can almost hear her brain whirring from here. "And I think Carmen Sanchez's brothers' spiked your drink with date rape drugs."

The memories come flooding back to me and the fear that I felt last night causes my heart to clench in my chest like long, skeletal fingers are squeezing and constricting around it.

Bile rises in my throat and I lean over and empty the pitiful contents of my stomach over the side of the bed.

Almost immediately, a warm hand is on my back, rubbing soothing circles in a continuous and calming pattern as my breathing begins to regulate.

A cool hand is placed on the back of my neck as it squeezes lightly, applying a little relieving pressure.

"Oh god." I gasp, feeling more than a little hysterical. "How?..."

Then I remember the last noise I heard before I must have fainted. The roar of a motorcycle engine.

"I came looking for you, after you left my house." Taylor's voice is close by but a little behind me. "You had to be at the last fucking club I searched. I only just got there in time. God knows what..." She trails off, too sickened to voice her obvious train of thought.

It's all rushing back now and I struggle to keep my breathing under control as I remember the callused, dirty fingers on my neck and the warm, alcoholic breath on my face.

My stomach heaves again but there's nothing left to come up so I just cough and splutter before I feel Taylor's hand on my back again continuing its soothing ministrations.

"Tay...Taylor..." I reach for her desperately and feel the hand leave my back to wrap around my neck. It's not long before I'm clinging desperately to her as she rocks me back and forth as tears begin to seep from my clenched eyelids and sobs and shudders wrack my body.

"Ssh...S'okay...I've got ya..." I vaguely hear her mumble in my ear as I bury my face further into her neck and cry noisily.

I've never felt so scared in all my life. And even though I know I'm safe now, here in Taylor's arms, the fear continues to wash through me causing goosebumps to pop up all over my body.

"Sssh." Taylor whispers again as my hysterics begin to calm. "You're okay."

"I'm s-still mad a-at you." I choke out and I'm not sure if she's heard me until I feel her chuckle vibrate against me.

"I'm still mad at you too." She's still talking as though her tongue is swollen and as I clench her tighter she lets out a hiss of pain.

I frown a little before blinking my eyes open. They sting badly and I can tell that if I were to look in a mirror they would be puffy and inflamed. It takes me a moment to focus but eventually the black spots marring my peripheral vision clear and I pull back so I can look at my best friend properly.

"Fuck!" The expletive slips out of my mouth just before I bring my hand up to cover it. "Oh my god, Taylor." I mumble behind my hand as I take in the sight before me.

Taylor's face is a mess. Her left eye is swollen shut and the cheek below it is mottled with a huge green and purple bruise the size of a large fist. Her lip is split and horribly engorged and dried blood stains her nostrils.

She looks away from me, seemingly unable to stand my absolutely horrified expression before looking back with a sheepish smile which does nothing except highlight the yellowing bruise that stretches grotesquely along her defined jaw.

My stomach turns again. But this time it's not from the urge to vomit but from the twisting guilt that's developed in my gut. This is all my fault.

"Tay..." I gasp through my fingers when I've gained control of my voice.

"You should of seen the other guys." She rasps in response and as what I assume to be an attempt to reassure me. It doesn't.

Instead, I glance down at her fist which is resting in her lap and tears rush to my eyes when I see the state of her knuckles, split and bruised and probably broken.

"Taylor." My throat feels like it's closing up but I force the words out; "You need a hospital."

"No." She responds immediately. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine!" I exclaim, tears rolling down my face. "Jesus! Look at you!"

"Stop." She says quietly, the fingers of her good hand wrapping around my wrist, grounding me. "They're just flesh wounds. They'll heal."

Something in her eyes tells me that there's a deeper underlying meaning to that comment but my head and heart are pounding so loudly that I can't think straight.

"Taylor, you really need -."

"I'm sorry." She interrupts me and my mouth quickly snaps shut. "I'm sorry for not telling you about Madison."

"Taylor..." I try to stop her. Everything that happened before just seems to pale in comparison to what happened last night.

"No. I mean it. I should have told you. I was a bad friend and I'm sorry." I can tell that she means it but I can also tell that there's something else she wants to say:

"But what you did last night was so fucking _stupid_."

Her tone is so icy that a shiver runs down my spine.

"You need to short your shit out Ashley because that was not okay." She continues and although one of her eyes is swollen partly shut the other one is flashing dangerously. "I know that you were upset about the Madison thing and I get it, okay? I understand why. But what I do not understand is why the _fuck_ that means you have to run off to a club in one of the dodgiest parts of the city _alone_ and get so fucking drunk that you can't even see straight!"

She's absolutely furious. I can feel the tension rolling off of her in waves and I can't even look at her so instead I stare at the palms of my hands, tears once again stinging at my eyelids.

"But that's how you work isn't it?" She spits harshly, and specks of blood fly from her mouth and onto my duvet. "Every time something happens you just take off! With absolutely no regard for your own safety! God knows what would have happened if I hadn't of gotten there in time." The steady anger in her voice quivers for just a second. "And how were you planning on getting home, huh? Or have you conveniently forgotten that you own _father_ was killed by a drunk driver?"

I know that behind her rage she's just as terrified as I am but at the mention of my dad all rationality drains from my body and anger starts to bubble in the back of my throat.

"You're pathetic. When are you just gonna _grow up_, Ashley?"

That does it.

"SHUT UP!" I scream at her and she physically scoots backwards. "Just shut up!"

All the fear and guilt I was feeling just a second ago channels into anger, fuelling my fury.

"You're acting like you're some fucking saint in all of this!" I shout at her. "If you hadn't of been sneaking around with _her_ behind my back and lying to me for the past two months none of this would ever have happened! And if you hadn't have forced me to go to Jake Slater's party none of that stuff with Sanchez would ever have happened and her brothers..." Bile starts to rise in my throat at the thought of what they could have done to me but I force it down, focusing on my anger. "And you _knew_ what a hard time I was having with this Spencer thing and when I _needed_ you to be there for me you were off fucking that _thing_."

"Oh yeah. Of course. Blame everything on somebody else just like you always do." She literally growls, throwing her left hand up in exasperation. "You know what? For just once in my life I'd like for you to admit that it's you with the problem. Do know what I do when I'm upset about something? I go for a walk to cool my head. Or I go to the gym and beat the shit out of a punch bag. I don't almost get myself fucking _killed!_"

"How the hell was I supposed to know what was going to happen?" I shout defensively.

"Exactly! You had no idea what was going to happen! That's why it was so bloody idiotic of you!" She hollers and I cringe as my head starts pounding even worse. "Don't you get it Ashley? Life's too short -."

"Oh, don't start feeding me some fucking bullshit line that you read off the back of some clichéd life enrichment magazine."

"No! I will feed you a line of bullshit. God, Ashley, you don't get it do you? It's a cliché because it's true. Life is too fucking short for you to mess around like this!" Taylor sounds angrier than I've ever heard her and I can tell I've gone too far. It's actually quite frightening. "Do you know what the average life expectancy is for women in the UK?" I have no idea where she's going with this but simply shake my head. "It's eighty one. And do you know how old my mum was when she died?"

My heart drops in my chest like a brick, my initial anger dissipating.

"Tay..."

"She was thirty-eight. Thirty fucking eight!" Taylor lets out a cold, forced chuckle that rips from her throat with the force of a sob. "She didn't even make it halfway." She shakes her head disbelievingly. "So yeah Ashley, life is too fucking short. Undiagnosed cardiac condition? What the fuck even is that?"

Taylor throws her hands wildly up towards my whitewashed ceiling hysterically and I have no idea what to say. Taylor never talks about her mom. Ever. And now all of this bottled up rage is rolling off of her in paralysing waves and I don't know what to do.

"One moment she's fine, and the next? The next she's on the garage floor." Taylor stares hard at the ceiling but I can still see the unshed tears forming in her glassy hazel eyes. "Not enough time for a transplant. Bypass wouldn't work. Too complex for a valve replacement." She muttered the words like a mantra, slurring them due to her swollen lips and the obvious need to cry. "I sat there _all_ day and _all_ night. I just wanted to say goodbye. But she never woke up again."

The tears that had been threatening to spill begin to cascade down her cheeks. Rivulets running over swollen and split skin and dropping onto the bedspread.

"So, yeah. Life's too short." She nods firmly, ignoring her tears completely. "She never smoked, she barely drank, she ran a yearly marathon for Christ's sake! And you're getting so hung up on Spencer Carlin, a girl you've known barely two months and who _you_ made the decision not to get involved with that you've turned into a complete reckless fool."

She chokes back a sob and my heart clenches in my chest at the sound.

"God, do you have any idea how fucking terrified I was?"

I can't meet her eye, completely jarred by her tears. I never thought of the possibility of how shocked I would be to see Taylor truly cry but now that it's happening I wish I'd never known.

"I can't lose you Ash." She murmurs quietly. "I can't. You're all I have."

My head snaps up. Surely that can't be true...

"But you have your Dad..." I manage to mutter.

"My Dad? Please Ash." Taylor snorts. "Haven't you ever wondered why he's away so much?"

I'm stumped by her question.

"Because it's his job?" I answer and she looks at me like I'm missing something obvious.

"And why do you think that he took a job where he has to be away from home almost nine months out of the year, huh?" She sniffs and wipes her nose on her sleeve, cringing when it brushes against the bruised and torn skin.

I have no idea where she's going with this. As far as I know, Mr. Jones is some kind of travelling sales marketer. He has to go to all these conventions to promote the services of some kind of important insurance company.

"I'll give you a clue." Taylor breaks my confused silence. "When we lived in England he worked in admin. It was an office job and he always told me he loved it because it was regular working hours and he could come home at the end of the day and be with his family."

This new information strikes me as more than a little odd. For the three years that I've known him, Mr. Jones has always seemed the flighty type.

"When he requested a transfer to the headquarters in America they offered him the same type of job."

"Why didn't he take it?" I ask her. It sounds like a far better deal than the one he's got now.

"Because he can't stand the sight of me."

Taylor's tone is so brutally honest that I shudder.

"Tay...you know that's not true." I lean over and place my hand on my wrist but am slightly hurt when she flinches and shrugs it off. She may have stopped shouting but she's clearly still angry at me. "Why would you think that?"

"Because it's the truth." She chuckles but it's not her familiar warm laughter, its distant and cold. "You only know the man he is now. I once had the pleasure of knowing the man he used to be. The father he used to be. Did you know he used to be a very affectionate man? He would read me stories and tuck me into bed at night and kiss my forehead. I haven't had a hug from my Dad in three years. And did you know that he used to be my biggest fan? He would come to all of my football games when I was a kid and he used to tell me that I would be a superstar one day. He even had these sweatshirts made for him and Mum to wear when they came to my games that said 'Team Taylor' on the back. God, they were so embarrassing." She chuckles again but this time it's filled with a rueful longing. "But now, now he can't bear to be around me. He always used to tell me that I was the carbon copy of my mum and that I was so lucky I didn't take after him. But now I'm just a constant reminder of her and he can't stand it."

The guilt in my gut is back and I feel like smacking myself in the head repeatedly for being such a jerk. Taylor was supposed to be my best friend and yet I let myself get so caught up in all my own drama that I just dragged her along with me regardless of how she felt. She had been so good to me when my Dad died and I had never bothered to notice that whilst hers was physically still there, he might as well have died along with her mother.

"So yeah Ash." She's talking so quietly now that it's almost inaudible. "You are all I have."

"Tay..." I had no idea what I wanted to say. 'Sorry' would probably be a good start but I don't think it will ever be enough.

I look up and finally meet her eyes to see, even with the abnormal swelling, that she's panicking. Even though I've just discovered that maybe I don't know Taylor as well as I thought I did, I do know her well enough to recognize that she's just realised what she's said and she's freaking out about being so open and is probably embarrassed about letting me see her cry.

"I've gotta go." She states abruptly, rising to her feet and teetering a little before moving rapidly to the door, clearly too uncomfortable to wallow in the fact that she just laid herself bare and made herself completely vulnerable to me.

"Taylor!" I call after her desperately, wanting to make this right before she leaves but as she turns back I can tell that this conversation is over.

"Don't." She says quietly, her hand already on the doorknob and before I can move a muscle, she's gone.

* * *

Special thanks to those who sent prompting reviews. Sometimes I really need a good kick up the backside.


	16. On the Up

I'm ready to get back on track with this story. Not sure if I have any readers left, especially after last chapter but alas, I'll be damned if I don't finish it.

And yes, had a bit of a shit year. But the tone of the last chapter in no way reflects on that. I'd written half of that chapter last November or whenever. Sorry if people didn't like the angst. I don't like reading that shit either. But it kind of just happened.

* * *

"Right, that's it! Get up!"

Kyla's small body blocks the television screen that is currently playing the fourth Jersey Shore episode I've watched back to back since I crawled out of bed this morning.

"Kyla." I grunt and flail a leg out from the warm blanket to kick her in the knee. "Move."

"No." She puts her hands on her hips and glares at me. It would have almost been intimidating if she wasn't wearing what looked like some sort of lime green lycra spacesuit.

"Seriously Kyla. Move." I nudge her again with my foot. "And what the actual fuck are you wearing?"

"I've booked Aiden and I in for couple's yoga down at the gym." She pulls at the clingy material gingerly.

Wait...hold the phone. Couple's yoga? With Aiden Dennison? My life is now complete.

Before I can help myself laughter bubbles up inside my throat and I'm off, rolling around in hysterics as tears stream down my face.

It feels like I haven't laughed in weeks, probably because I actually haven't. It's been three days since my altercation with Taylor and I haven't spoken to her since. It's the longest I've gone without any form of contact with her and I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt like hell.

Part of me desperately wants to try and make things right but I'm terrified at the thought of seeing that look in her eyes again. That look of pure disappointment that she's never given me before and that I never want to see again.

But at the same time I'm still angry at her for sleeping with Madison. Every time I get close to grabbing my jacket and driving over there a feeling of hurt and betrayal seeps into me and I sit defiantly back down on the couch.

I've bunked off school for the last three days too. It's not like my mother really cares what I do and Kyla can pull of a mean imitation.

"Shut up Ashley." Kyla snaps at me, quelling my laughter to small, intermittent chuckles. "You're just jealous."

"Jealous?" I raise my eyebrows at her. "Believe me Ky, I'm glad I'm not the one about to be crushed when that big oaf can't hold the dog pose for more than five seconds. Just make sure you keep your mat a good distance away and you have a chance of returning home in one piece."

"Haha." Kyla's usually peppy voice drips with sarcasm. "You're just so funny."

"Why thank you." I grin charmingly at her and then triumphantly when she huffs angrily.

"I just came over here to tell you to pull your head out of your ass and talk to Taylor." She says and before I can open my mouth: "And nobody told me what happened between you two because it's fairly obvious. She hasn't been in school for the past three days either and you're skulking around here with your bottom lip on the floor."

Well. I guess that's one thing I can always count on my darling sister for. Brutal (if sometimes unnecessarily harsh) honesty.

"Talk to her Ash." She taps my nose patronisingly and I swat her hand away in irritation. "Because if I see one more Kardashian on that TV I'm gonna scream."

"Ugh, whatever." I nudge her further away with my foot.

Kyla has a habit of doing this. She's always the person I can count on to physically try and pull my head out of my ass. Okay, maybe not physically. Because that would be...really gross.

Kyla just rolls her eyes at me and moves to leave the room.

"Call her Ashley." She yells over her shoulder. "Or I'll be forced to do some digging."

"Fuck off!" I yell back my customary response before smiling devilishly as something crosses my mind. "Hey Ky?" She turns back, a hopeful look on her youthful face; as though she think I'm going to thank her or something. "Is Aiden going to be wearing a lycra spacesuit too? Because if so, pictures would be great."

* * *

I can't deny that Kyla's verbal prodding has given me something to think about. I'm still sitting here watching trashy reality TV but I keep having the urge to check my phone every two or three minutes, just to make sure my best friend hasn't tried to contact me.

I even scroll through my contacts and hover over her number, which just so happens to be stored in my phone this week under the alias 'Kobe Bryant'.

I press the button and the dial screen flashes up to tell me that I'm calling Kobe.

Before the dial tone can even start, however, a loud insistent knocking on the front door starts up and I almost jump out my skin, ending the call in my panic.

I look over at the door suspiciously but decide to answer it anyway. Something deep inside me is hoping that it's Taylor but when I open it I shut it again almost immediately.

What the fuck is she doing here? How dare she tarnish the stoop of my door with her irascible presence.

Before I can move myself back to the living room the pounding on the door starts up again.

"Davies!" Madison calls through the door. "Open the door. I'm not going away."

Either she goes away now or I make her go away. Permanently.

"Get the fuck off my stoop bitch!" I yell through the door.

Is she really that dumb? Does she not remember exactly what happened the last time we crossed paths.

"Just open the door." Something about her tone strikes me as odd. She doesn't sound mad or even annoyed. Maybe a little bit exasperated but mostly she just sounds kind of desperate.

Weird.

But no. She is not setting foot in this house.

"Fuck off Madison." I tell her with no room for argument. "You need to leave right now or I swear to god I will come out there and make you."

There's a thud against the door and then silence.

Er. What just happened? Have I finally managed to achieve my goal of killing Madison Duarte without having to go to jail?

"Please Davies."

Damn it. And to think, I was about to break out the party streamers.

Hold the phone, did she just say please? As in _please_?

"Please Ashley."

There it is again. What the fuck? Am I being Punk'd?

I glance around just to make sure that Ashton Kutcher isn't hiding behind Christine's potted plant. Nope. This is the real deal. Madison Duarte is standing outside of my door pleading with me.

Wow. I thought that it would feel more satisfying than this. I actually just feel kind of scared. In fact, I feel scared enough to eek the door open just a little and make sure it actually is Madison standing there, rather than her much more agreeable twin.

Okay, so it's definitely Madison. Her nice twin would so not show that much skin. Or be that orange. What is it with people and not being able to use foundation that matches their skin tone? Why would anyone deliberately purchase make-up made for a Satsuma?

Okay, so maybe that's not the point right now. Wait...why is her eyeliner smudged like that? Fuck. A. Monkey. Has she been crying?

"Are you crying?" I blurt out, unable to control myself as she swipes furiously at her eyes.

"No." She snaps at me, defensive as ever but the choked quality to her voice tells me otherwise. "Look Davies, have you talked to Taylor?"

I can tell by the way she shuffles backwards slightly that she saw the way my eyes just flashed. That's right Madison, be very afraid.

"Are you seriously talking to me about that right now?" I can feel the rage swelling in my gut. This must be what Bruce Banner must feel like before he turns into the Hulk.

"She hasn't been in school for the last three days and she won't answer any of my texts or phone calls." Madison says in a rush as though she has less of a chance of getting her face smashed in if she talks fast. "I talked to Glen and he said the last time he saw her was two days ago when she was wheeling in that damn motorbike she rides everywhere. He said it was completely smashed up but when he tried to ask her about it she ignored him and went inside."

Is it me or does she sound concerned?

Wait.

Oh shit.

Not Dora.

"I have to go." I murmur, grabbing my keys from the table and physically pushing Madison out of the way.

"Hey!" She calls after me indignantly. "Where are you going?"

Ignoring her I jump into my car and jam the keys in the ignition, roaring off of the driveway as I vaguely hear her shout after me.

"You better fix this Davies!"

Ugh, I don't have time for this right now. Whatever the hell is wrong with Madison doesn't bother me as long as she stays away from me and keeps her talons out of Taylor. Ew. And, unfortunately, I mean that literally.

It takes me less than ten minutes to pull to a stop outside of Taylor's house. There's no sign of life but then again with Taylor's stance on wasting electricity, it's not like she would have any lights on in the middle of the day.

Ugh. I can't believe this is happening. If anything's happened to Dora it's all my fault. I know how much that bike means to Taylor. To everyone else it just looks like a hunk of unimpressive metal but it's her baby and her blood, sweat and tears went into building it.

I sit in my car for a while trying to figure out what I want to say. Will she even let me talk to her? We both did some really crappy things. I still can't quite believe what happened the last time I was here and I still can't quite forgive her for it, let alone what she said to me afterwards. That really hurt.

I know I should have acted more responsibly but at the same time the fault can't entirely be on me can it? If it hadn't been for Taylor I would have spent the entire night safely at her house, probably discussing what a bitch Madison is.

Ugh. I get that relationships are complicated but how did the simplest thing in my life get so fucked up?

After a moment of deliberation I step out of the car and wander along the path. I've never once had a problem bounding down this stretch of concrete and hammering on the front door, or simply walking straight in, but now the normally friendly front door seems hostile and the idea of what could linger behind it is even worse.

This really sucks.

Instead of knocking on the door I collapse onto the front step. How can I feel so immeasurably guilty yet so angry at the same time?

For all intents and purposes Taylor saved my life, and she paid a hefty price for it too. I flash back to the state of her face three nights ago. That's probably why she hasn't been to school. The school councillor would be all over that shit.

"Ashley?"

I nearly shit a goat as a familiar melodious voice seeps into my consciousness. Whipping around, I see Spencer staring at me curiously, car keys in hand, as she looks over the small brick wall that separates her front yard from the Jones'.

She looks as radiant as ever. All long, flowing locks and curious blue eyes.

Oh dear Jesus, this cannot be happening.

I suddenly become very aware that I look like a hobo. I've been wearing the same scruffy grey hoody for the last three days and there's a beanie hat on my head that's been a substitute for actually washing my hair. Glancing down at what I have on my legs, hoping for some kind of salvation, I discover that I have left my house wearing a pair of cow-print pyjama bottoms which I know if I were to stand up would proudly display the words 'Moo-dy Cow' in bold stitching across my backside.

This could quite possibly be the worst moment of my life.

"Ashley?" Spencer sounds concerned. "Are you okay?"

Fuck my life. This cannot be happening. Really big guy? I roll my eyes towards the sky. Really?

And now she's looking at me like I've officially lost my bread basket. Say something Ashley, use your words.

"Er, hi Spencer."

Good start. Now push through.

"I was just coming over to talk to Taylor."

Another concerned look flashes across her face and she steps over the wall and comes closer to me. Oh God, I hope I don't smell as bad a Kyla keeps telling me I do.

"I've been really worried about her." She nibbles her bottom lip and the simple gesture makes my head spin. "I heard her in the garage yesterday and I knocked but she wouldn't answer me."

"We had a fight."

"Is that why you haven't been in school?"

She noticed I wasn't in school?

"You noticed that I wasn't in school?"

Oops. Wasn't meant to say that out loud.

She fixes me with an undeterminable stare before sighing lightly and dropping down onto the step beside me. She runs a stressed hand through her hair.

"You really hurt my feelings." She says, making me feel more like shit than I already do.

"I'm sorry." I tell her. "I'm an idiot."

"Yeah." She purses her lips together and I can tell that she's thinking hard about something. "You are."

"I'm really sorry I hurt your feelings." I say quietly.

She stares at me for a moment, her blue eyes resigned.

"It's okay." She shrugs. "I know it's not because you didn't want to, it's because you're an idiot."

I'm really glad she figured that out and I'm also kind of jealous of how emotionally mature she is. She's the one that should be freaking out here not me. She's the one that's going through one of the hardest and most confusing times of her life and with a mother like that...

Fuck. I'm such an asshole.

"I'm really sorry, Spencer."

Did I say that already?

"You said that already."

Thought so.

"It must have been a bad fight." Spencer changes the subject. "Glen said Taylor seemed really upset."

"I fucked up." I shrug. "And she fucked Madison."

I'm expecting her to look as bewildered as I was but she merely nodded as though this information wasn't anything new.

"You knew?"

"I had my suspicions." She tells me.

"And you didn't think to tell me?" I feel irrationally annoyed at her.

"It wasn't really any of my business." Her voice is quiet but there's a bit of an edge to it that tells me not to jump to conclusions or try to drag her into this.

She's right. This had nothing to do with her. This is all on Taylor. My reaction to it, however, is all on me.

Before I know it everything I'm feeling starts spilling right out of my mouth. I tell Spencer how angry I am with Taylor for sleeping with Madison but how bad I feel about her and Dora getting beaten up.

"Wait...Carmen's brothers hit her?" Spencer's eyes widen in shock.

I nod emphatically.

"I know it's none of my business but I saw you at Taylor's game talking to her..."

I know what I want to say. I want to tell Spencer to stay the hell away from that crazy bitch. Not because I'm jealous or anything but because she obviously does not come from good stock. Okay, so maybe I'm also jealous but I think the argument stands up well enough without adding that in.

"She's gone."

"Who's gone?"

"Carmen. She lived with her brothers and according to Chelsea they skipped town. They obviously thought Taylor might call the police...why didn't Taylor call the police?"

"I tried to get her to." I shrug.

If Taylor really doesn't want to do something she won't do it, simple as that.

"You need to talk to her." Spencer shrugs cutely, like it's the simplest thing in the world.

"What if she won't talk to me?"

"She will." Spencer nods confidently. "Your friendship is one of the strongest I've ever seen. A little unconventional maybe but to be honest, I'm jealous. I've never had a friendship like that."

"You never had a best friend back in Ohio?"

I find that hard to believe. How can you not want to be friends with this girl?

"Well, sure. And we still keep in contact every now and then but she was never someone I imagined being close to forever."

She's right. I can't imagine a time where I'd ever not be friends with Taylor.

We sit there for a little longer, shoulder to shoulder, and I can't help but think about how nice it feels, just being with Spencer.

I'd been doing everything I could to avoid her, absolutely convinced that the next time we met would be painfully awkward and a horrible experience for both of us but in actual fact, it's not like that at all. I feel bad for assuming that she would be the kind of person to hold a grudge.

God, I've been such an idiot. I wish that I could just start all over again.

Maybe I can...

I glance over at Spencer to find that she's looking straight back at me. Ever had that feeling like someone's just punched you straight in the solar plexus and you can't breathe? Yep. Me too.

"Hi." I feel the word slip between my lips before I can stop it and she tilts her head, adorably confused, but plays along.

"Hey."

I pull my hand from the sleeve of my hoody and extend it the little way towards her.

"I'm Ashley Davies."

To my immense relief she catches on straight away and her eyes sparkle as she shakes the proffered hand.

"Spencer Carlin." She says, smiling widely. "It's nice to meet you Ashley."

She surprises me by standing up and I automatically mirror her.

"Do you...er, maybe want to...hang out sometime?" I fumble my words completely. Jackass. "I know a nice breakfast bar by the beach. I'll even buy you a granola muffin."

Spencer turns to me and cocks her head.

"Maybe." She shrugs before turning to walk away.

Maybe? Is she fucking with me? That's a good thing right? Maybe isn't the same thing as no. Right?

"Hey Ashley?"

I look up to find she's made it over the wall and is staring at me from the other side.

"How's Saturday? 9.30?"

Wait, what? Saturday? What?

"Saturday's great." I manage to garble out.

Saturday's more than great. Saturday's fucking amazing.

"Good." She nods once. "And I'll be expecting that muffin."

Before I know it, she's disappeared into the car and driven out of sight, leaving me gaping like a fish.

Fuck. A. Monkey. In fact, fuck all the monkeys.

Did that really just happen?

* * *

Thanks for reading. I appreciate it.

Thanks to everyone who's reviewed the last few chapters. I'm a bit behind in my dedications to reviewers but I'll do that for the next chapter. Cheers again.


End file.
